#post hogwarts reader

[megwritesriddles]

I Despise You ༊*·˚

18+ MDNI !!!

Pairing: Tom Riddle x Fem!Reader / You

Summary: Kinktober 2024 Day 1 - Angry Sex. Reader is the Head Girl and Riddle is the Head Boy, Riddle likes to push Reader's boundaries until it all boils over. Minimal plot but a smidge anyway.

Tags: Angry sex, P in V, Fingering (fem receiving), Unprotected sex, Magic as birth control, Enemies with benefits, Arguing (which is badly written oops), Attempt at angst, Tiny bit of sexism from Riddle, Reader is wearing a dress (I imagined one of those Sabrina Carpenter babydoll dresses lol), Head boy Riddle, Head girl Reader, Historical inaccuracy.

Word count: 3.4k

Read it on ao3! | Masterlist

Authors note: First installment of Kinktober and first post on tumblr!! woo!! please show me some love if you like it!! I am terrible at writing arguments because I hate confrontation irl oops!! Hope you like it anyway mwah ( ◕◡◕)っ ♡

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Being appointed as Head Girl was supposed to be the best thing to ever happen to you. You’d been working toward it since at least the third year and it was all you ever seemed to hope for. It was meant to be an achievement that you and your friends would all celebrate, perhaps head down to the Three Broomsticks and spoil you with free drinks for the night in honour of your achievement. But, life wasn’t so kind.

When your position as Head Girl was announced all you had received from your friends were pitying looks, all due to the pesky little detail of who had been announced as Head Boy to serve alongside you. Tom Riddle. Tom. Fucking. Riddle. Of course, Professor Dippett had had to announce his name first, meaning you hadn’t even gotten a second of enjoyment from your appointment. He had stood up smugly at the Slytherin table, basking in the cheers from his house, flashing a charming smile to the room as he made his way to the front of the hall. For the first time in your life, at that moment, you had prayed that Head Girl would not be you. It was. Your name was called, your house applauded and your legs carried you over to Riddle’s side. He grinned down at you, that little glint of mockery in his eye that you could only see from this close. You wanted to punch him, that would surely lose you the Head Girl position and solve this problem, but you had your future to think of. You had repeated that to yourself all that night as you and Riddle had been whisked off to the staff room to be briefed on your positions and given your badges. Riddle was the picture of charm, laughing with the various professors that came to speak with you, you just sat there, smiling falsely, looking a little like you’d just been hit over the head with a plank. You felt like it too. Your lifelong dream had just been turned into something poisonous. Really, you thought to yourself as Slughorn guided you through the corridors to the Head’s quarters, you should have seen this coming. They weren’t supposed to appoint two students from the same house, so logically, if you were picked for Head Girl, it was only ever going to be Riddle at your side. You wondered why you hadn’t considered this before, it was so obvious with hindsight. You scowled at the back of his and Slughorn’s heads as you ascended some stairs, them chatting together jovially, making your blood boil.

Slughorn shows you the small common room, enough seating for about four people, a fireplace, and a little kitchenette with some stools, decorated with opulence. It would all have been very nice if it hadn’t been for Riddle standing there commenting on the lovely brass crests. The separate rooms were your biggest comfort, both off of little halls from the common room in different directions. You could hide in there from him, you told yourself over and over. You didn’t have the headspace to be impressed by the beautiful ensuites with golden-tapped baths, just wanting Slughorn to leave so you would no longer have to listen to Riddle’s disgustingly smooth voice. Eventually, Slughorn did leave the two of you to go to bed. As he shut the common room door, you could see Riddle’s mouth opening from the corner of your eye. You darted to your room before he could get the words out, slamming the door, relieved to find all your things already there. You collapsed onto the bed and sighed. The nightmare was only beginning.

The hands on the clock point to 3:30 am. It’s a Monday morning, you have a meeting with Dumbledore in just a few hours, but sleep is impossible. He has friends over again. The deep bass of their voices reverberates through the walls of the common room. They’re chatting and laughing like always, most likely drinking too, you’ve spotted them with whiskey a few times. You seethe with anger in your bed, just last week you had kindly approached him, and not for the first time, about this issue. You had emphatically asked him to be considerate of you and your time. He had placated you like always.

“Yes darling, I didn’t realise we were being so bothersome, won’t happen again,” he had soothed, but of course, it was happening again right now. You kept somehow getting caught in his charms, the very ones you had been immune to for so long. It had to be the sleep deprivation he was causing, that was what was making you melt a little whenever he called you darling or smiled just so, in the way that used to make you feel sick. In the dark of your room, you lie on your side and curse inwardly. Reporting him had crossed your mind many times, but you knew he would just charm his way out of it, like he did with everything. Your ears rumble with another deep laugh from the group of men in the other room and you’ve had enough. Throwing off your duvet and stomping to your bedroom door, you fling it open and head into the common room. He sits reclined leisurely in an armchair by the fireplace, his sleeves rolled up and tie loose. His ankles are crossed, resting on the coffee table in front of him, he chuckles at something, you couldn’t care less what, the firelight dancing over his face. He hasn’t noticed you, but across from him on the opposite armchair, his friend, Avery, straightens up and grins at you. His eyes drift over you, you realise instantly that you stomped out here in only your nightgown and socks and flush lightly, but stand your ground.

“Riddle!” you bark, surprising even yourself with the viciousness of your tone. This brings his attention to you effectively. His other two friends turn to look at you over the back of the sofa, Riddle doesn’t even straighten up when he looks up at you, smirking in a self-satisfied way that makes your insides twist oddly.

“Hello darling,” he speaks smoothly. “You look a picture tonight,” he lets his eyes drift up and down your figure without shame. You go red with anger and embarrassment.

“Doesn't she just?” One of his friends, Rosier, comments with a mocking chuckle. This sets you off.

“Out!” You screech. All the boys look taken aback by the intensity of your outburst. “Out, out, out!”

“Fine,” Riddle hisses in an infuriatingly calm tone. “You lot should go, you heard the Head Girl,” you hear the mocking tone in his voice, suggesting he thinks you’re hysterical. You stand there with your fists clenched, staring the men down as they get up and head for the door, feeling ridiculous but not wanting to show any weakness. Once they all leave and shut the door behind them, the two of you fall into silence for a moment. He’s watching you, but not in the leering way from earlier, he almost looks impressed with you. You avert your eyes from the closed door onto his face, he’s leaning forward now, with his elbows on his knees. Just when you’re considering simply turning to leave, he speaks up. “Happy now, darling? You’re really no fun, we were only talking,” his eyes fix on yours, burning deeply. You scoff indignantly.

“It’s nearly 4 am Riddle, you know I have a meeting in the morning, I have brought this up to you countless times and–”

“Yes, but you don’t seem to understand that I simply don’t care to keep you happy, darling,” he grins. You let out a frustrated yelp.

“You are unbelievable! How were you ever chosen for Head Boy when you're this insidious? You don’t deserve it!” You snap. This stirs something in him. His eyes darken and he stands up from the armchair.

“And you do, do you darling?” he asks slowly, stalking toward you. “You’re the picture of perfection, aren’t you just?” You’re not sure what to say to this, any answer seems wrong like it’ll give him reason to dig into you further. Your mouth opens and shuts for a moment before you settle on a shrug. Your hands flex in the fists they’re tightened into as a smirk spreads over his face. “You don’t seem so high and mighty from here,” he chuckles, stopping in front of you. He has several inches on you and you’re forced to look up at him. “You look lovely in this little nightie,” he comments with a grin, reaching out to trace the lace at the strap with the tip of his finger. You jolt away instantly, glaring up at him.

“Don’t you dare touch me! And don’t you dare comment on my looks!” You hissed, smacking his hand away. His eyes darken even more at this.

“And don’t you dare smack me,” he growls. “I was merely paying you a compliment,”

“Like hell you were!” You scoff. “You’re trying to make me feel small,” he rolls his eyes, shaking his head.

“If the shoe fits,” he grins. You scowl, shoving at him without thinking about it. He stumbles back slightly, looking momentarily bewildered. When he realises what you just did he surges for you. He grabs you by the shoulders and pushes you into the wall. You let out a small oof sound as you collide with the wall, surprised it didn’t hurt more than it did. For a moment, you wonder if he had avoided hurting you until you look up and see the fire in his eyes, then you wonder if he wishes he had just killed you. “I would have rather had literally anyone as Head Girl than you, you are the bane of my existence,” he snarls, gripping your shoulders hard.

“I’m the bane of your existence? I don’t have friends over until the small hours of the morning! Imagine how I feel!” You spit back. You can tell he’s barely listening to you.

“You are insufferable! You’re the only person who doesn’t fawn over the sight of me and it’s you that I get stuck with for the whole year!” he scoffs. “I will not let you control my lifestyle!” he adds angrily. “I will not bend my life to make you happy! I am not subservient to anyone and I never will be!” you roll your eyes exaggeratedly.

“You are ridiculous,”

“I despise you,” he hisses venomously. “You’re always everywhere I am, you’re always following me around, tailing me in every subject, you had to go for this position when I’ve had my sights locked on it since first year!” He pushes you back into the wall again. “Are you happy now darling? You got Head Girl and now we’re both miserable! You must be thrilled!”

“You think I’m following you around?” you sneer. “How full of yourself are you that you think me going for Head Girl was about you? You seem to think you’re the centre of everything, but in my life Riddle, you are just an inconvenience, you are nothing,” you seethed. Something flashes in Riddle’s eyes, his jaw working.

“I am nothing?” he demands. “I am nothing?” he’s shaking now and you’re sure he’s about to hex you or punch you, his eyes flick between yours, his whole body coiled tight and ready to pounce. Instead, his lips are suddenly on yours, thrusting your head back against the wall. You yelp in surprise, your eyes wide, the back of your head hurting from being pressed into the hard surface. He kisses you without a single hint of affection, kissing you like it’s a punishment, a way of muzzling you, but Merlin, somehow it feels good. He’s grabbing at you, taking fistfuls of your nightgown in his hands. You find that you’re kissing him back, that you have been practically since his lips met yours and that you’re doing so eagerly. Your head is spinning as his arms wrap around you and he pulls you harshly to him, the hard planes of his lean body pressing against you. Your arms snake around his neck and he lets you yank at his hair. He’s kissing you so hard that you’re practically tipping backwards. Your tongues rub against each other as you kiss frantically. He’s leading you to the sofa, throwing you down and then settling above you. He props himself up, his hands on either side of your head. You both take this moment to catch your breaths, staring intensely at each other as your chests rise and fall rapidly. “Am I still nothing?” he growls, a little breathless. Once again, you don’t know what the right thing to say is. One of his hands moves down and starts to push up the hem of your nightdress, revealing your thighs to his devouring eyes. You grab him and kiss him again instead of talking, just as hard and unforgiving as before.

You feel your nightdress being bunched at your waist and hear the faint sound of a zip being pulled down. You kiss him harder, nipping at his bottom lip harshly and scrunching your eyes shut. He just groans in response, pushing down his slacks haphazardly, his other hand keeping him propped up above you. You’re suddenly awfully overheated, both from lying on the sofa in front of the blazing fireplace and from the realisation of what he’s planning to do to you. Are you really going to do this? Are you really going to let him fuck you on the sofa in the common room? Riddle? The man you’ve hated for years? The man who has been deliberately antagonising you for the past several weeks, and especially tonight? Your hands are resting on his stomach, and you connect the dots in mild horror that you’ve been unbuttoning his shirt without even realising it. You feel completely out of control of yourself, you’ve never acted this way before. You gasp in surprise when you feel his fingers pressing against your core through the fabric of your underwear. His fingers rub roughly, sending jolts of pain and pleasure through you. You whine slightly, feeling him smirk against your lips. You scratch at his chest a little in retaliation. He grunts, you can’t tell if he likes it or not and it bothers you. His fingers hook into your underwear and start to tug down. This is your last chance to back out, to throw him off of you and run away, but you find yourself unable to do anything but writhe and cling to his shoulders. The underwear is discarded on the floor and he is using his free hand to spread your thighs open, you flush deeply as he pulls away from the kiss to look down at you. You can feel how wet you are and you hate that, based on the smug little grin on his face, he knows it too. Your cheeks are burning as he reaches down, using two fingers to spread your folds. He lets out a needy sound by accident and it’s your turn to gloat. He flashes you a glare and plunges a finger into your tight heat in revenge. This makes your back arch and your lips part and he smirks back at you.

“So wet…” he comments, self-satisfied, his finger creating obscene squelches as he pumps it in and out of you slowly. You snarl at him, lashing out in embarrassment. You grab at the tent in his boxers, feeling him rock-hard under the fabric. He frowns in embarrassment, withdrawing his finger from you which makes you whimper a little. “You’re asking for it now, darling,” he growls. He’s scrambling to rid himself of his boxers. His tip is quickly prodding at your entrance and you gasp and arch slightly. He glides against you for a moment, his tip rubbing deliciously at your clit, seeming like he’s waiting for something. Then, he’s plunging into you. You let out a pathetic little cry and he grins. “Does that feel good?” he coos mockingly as he fully seats himself inside you. You both gasp for breath as your tight heat embraces him. It does feel good, torturously so, but his mocking tone irks you.

“I hate you,” you growl up at him as he lowers himself onto his elbows, his face right above yours. He scowls, panting slightly.

“I hate you too, believe me,” his arms wrap around your shoulders, keeping you in place. He buries his face in your neck and starts to nip as his hips begin to rock harshly. His thrusts are hard and punishing, slow, withdrawing almost completely and then slamming forward, just short of painful. You whine and grab at his back, letting your nails dig into him, he doesn’t seem to mind. He speeds up, grunting loudly against your neck. He pulls back to watch as you move along with his thrusts, your eyes scrunched shut and lips parted with desperate whines. He pants, his hot breaths washing over your face. He speeds up even more, growling like a crazed animal. “Look at you, falling apart under me, what would your friends think?” he taunts. Your eyes squeeze tighter shut, a wave of shame passing through you that somehow heightens your pleasure.

“Shut the fuck up,” you whine. You hear him laughing mockingly. You muster your strength and clench your walls around him. His laugh morphs into a choked groan at the sensation, his hips stuttering. He was more affected by this than you expected, his pace now brutal as he fucks into you, clearly desperately chasing release now, rather than focusing on playing mind games on you. His lips meet yours again and you kiss back. It’s clumsy and sloppy, given how fast he’s moving, but it just heightens everything you’re feeling. “You gonna come already?” you mock as you feel him faltering in his thrusts. He groans angrily against your lips.

“I despise you,” he hisses shakily, propping himself back up so he can thrust into you more relentlessly. You return the sentiment, but it’s a little half-hearted now between whines. You cry out when you feel his thumb on your clit, rubbing hard. He seems oddly determined to have you orgasm before he does, perhaps to humiliate you, but it feels so good that you can hardly complain. He grunts loudly, you can tell he’s trying to goad you, but his speech is incoherent between sounds of pleasure and the slapping of skin against skin. You feel it building up and you can’t deny yourself the pleasure, you don’t try to hold back. However, he still falls apart first. His hips stutter then stop entirely and he groans loudly, you feel his seed spilling deep into you, warm ropes painting your inside. His thumb doesn’t let up its rubbing and it allows you to also reach your release. You pulse around his oversensitive cock and he gasps and whines pathetically, but continues rubbing you through it until all the aftershocks are over.

He remains propped above you, catching his breath for a while, his head hung low. You both whine slightly as he withdraws from you slowly, leaving you with a pop. He takes a shaky breath, staring at his essence that trickles out of you. You just stare at the ceiling, unsure what to do now. You feel the sofa dip as he reaches down to the floor, his chest touching yours as he lowers himself gently. He grabs his wand from his trouser pocket and props back up. He mumbles a spell, cleaning you of his essence and eliminating the chance of pregnancy. It pleases you a little that he took care of it, rather than leaving it up to you. He moves, sitting back on his haunches between your legs, lowering the hem of your nightdress to cover you back up. You stare at each other silently for a moment as he tucks himself away.

“This changes nothing between us,” he asserts, narrowing his eyes at you. You want to laugh at that, as clearly everything has just changed in some way, but you know what he means.

“Yeah, it changes nothing,” you repeat with a sigh. He glances over at the fireplace for a moment, before his eyes flick to the clock on the mantelpiece.

“Now chop chop, don’t you have that meeting with Dumbledore?” he grins. Your eyes widen and then you kick at him in frustration, realising what he’s done. He just laughs. “You better figure out a way to cover those hickeys quickly,” he smirks. You whine indignantly, burying your head in your hands.

“I’m going to kill you!”

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xoxoxo

[myokk]

clumsy

pairing: Sebastian Sallow x f!MC

word count: 9,1k

summary: sebastian is clumsy

cw: fluff, mutual pining, idiots in love, two really stubborn idiots in love to be exact, sir cadogan guest appearance, anne and imelda are the gremlin best friends every girl needs, smut (18+ ONLY), oral (f. recieving)

a/n: or: two stubborn brats make things more difficult than they have to be. I've been working on this for a MONTH more or less, ever since I drew the sketch that inspired it🫶 (I'm the world's slowest writer)

The first time Sebastian Sallow interacted with her after the fateful events of their fifth year, he fell for her.

Quite literally.

Maybe fell on her is more aptly put - Sebastian Sallow is not one to mince his words or say what he doesn't mean, after all. But, in the years to come, he always insists that he fell in love in that moment.

It was inexplicable. One moment, he was walking around, perfectly content with his loveless, boring life, and the next, his every waking moment was painful. Nobody had ever told Sebastian that being in love would physically pain or consume him so.

It all started like this: one moment, he's walking (well, striding) to Crossed Wands. Fine, he's running. Running late already, for the first meet-up of his last year. But - he isn't to blame for being late. He needed to check on something in the library - during his Transfiguration lesson, he had a hunch about something Professor Weasley had said in passing, and of course he had to go and check to see if he was right before he could even think about besting Leander in the inaugural duel of the Crossed Wands season but now, with how late he is - how many minutes ago had it started? - oh, Merlin, it's already been ten whole minutes and what if they've started without him (not that he can blame them) and -

Sebastian is abruptly pulled out of his thoughts when he collides with a strange obstruction in his way. He was just checking his father's old pocket watch, had only looked away for a split second and he could have sworn that, unless he was mistaken (which he never is), there wasn't a statue in the middle of the suspension bridge. And yet, he has run headfirst into something or someone, and now they are both flying through the air, books whirling around them in a flurry of pages and Sebastian unconsciously puts his arms out to grab her before they hit the ground and now he's holding her tight against him and they land with a loud, ungraceful thud, but at least she's not hurt.

Sebastian shakes his head to clear it after the impact that - miraculously - doesn't seem to have been as bad as it could have been, all things considered, and -

He freezes.

What has he done?

He's pressed up against the most impossibly lovely person he has ever seen quite possibly in his life, holding her tightly in his arms as she glares up at him in indignation, a faint flush spreading across her cheeks, making her face glow. Is this what the muggles mean when they say that they were struck by Cupid's arrow? Her hands scrabble uselessly at his chest as she tries to extricate herself from his grip. It's useless. Sebastian is completely frozen in place as he stares down at her, and he can feel his own face heating up at his inability to get off her. What's wrong with him?

"Sebastian," she repeats, and this time her voice registers in his brain. He realizes she has been talking to him this whole time, and as he stares at her face without comprehending - he couldn't have a coherent thought right now even if he wanted to - he sees her eyes dart quickly down, looking at where their bodies meet before she brings them back to his face, a deeper blush coming over her. "You -"

Oh, Merlin. It's her. He blinks and it's like the fog has cleared from his mind - almost, but-not-quite - and he realizes who he has unceremoniously crashed to the ground with him. The spines of the textbooks they are lying on top of dig into the arm that's pinned under her body and his other hand...he realizes (to his almost-horror) that to any students or professors walking by, it would seem as if they were caught up in quite the scandalous extra-curricular activity because his other hand is actively caressing her breast. Well, that's how it would look to any passerby, anyways.

Because there is no way he would be caught dead in such a compromising position with her.

The two of them haven't spoken since the events of their fifth year - the Year-That-Shall-Not-Be-Remembered-or-Acknowledged - and he had been perfectly content with his plan to continue this strange sort of ignoring that they had played all last year. Both of them pretending that they hadn't become impossibly close after only knowing each other for a few months - a closeness that he had gone and ruined by not knowing when to quit. All he had known to do back then was push push push because why couldn't she see things the way he had? The betrayal he had felt when she had gone behind his back to find her own way to cure his sister, and that one stupid word uttered in the heat of the moment, had caused an irreparable rift in their relationship and he would not allow himself to think about how much he missed her. Still misses her.

Just like he will not think about the fact that she is pressed beneath him in a compromising position, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she glares up at him in indignation. He continues to stare at her. Maybe his mouth is agape. She's stopped trying to get out of his grip and is resting her hands on his chest, seemingly waiting for an opportunity to push him off of her.

"Sebastian. Your hand," she repeats. "You're -"

Finally his idiot brain decides to wake up and Sebastian realizes with horror just how aroused he is at the moment and how did he never see her like this before? He gets up in a flash, pushing her back against the pile of books they're lying on top of, wondering if he can subtly adjust his robes without her realizing and then he makes the very grave mistake of looking down at her and she's still very much red-faced, propping herself up by her elbows and she looks so disheveled and lovely lying on top of the pile of books.

His idiot brain has now woken up completely, and how is it possible for one hormonal, eighteen-year-old wizard to be so embarrassed? He knocked her to the ground, pushed her further back in the books in his desperate attempt to get away from her, and now all he can think about is how to hide his arousal. Shameful, really. Sebastian quickly crouches down to help her pick up all of the books but she shoves him away and glares at him with an annoyance that he's never seen before.

"I can do it myself, thank you very much," she says with a huff, gathering everything they spilled up into her arms. She grabs the book Sebastian is holding out of his hands and he inhales sharply at the touch of her fingers grazing his.

Did someone - Garreth, maybe - spike his pumpkin juice with Amortentia during lunch? It's the only explanation he can think of as he stares blankly down at her. How else would he find her so beautiful, so breathtaking, when the last time they had interacted, Ominis and Anne had had to act as intermediaries for the two of them?

"Well," she says finally, slinging her school bag over her shoulder once all of her books have been unceremoniously shoved inside of it, "it's been...nice seeing you again, Sallow. I hope you had a good summer holiday."

And with that, she quickly turns and walks away in the direction she had been coming from, leaving a very confused Sebastian behind. He watches her as she walks away and her long, swishing braid is the last thing he sees before the door closes behind her at the far end of the bridge.

Eventually, he gathers his wits and wanders away.

He does not go to the first Crossed Wands meeting that afternoon after all.

She has not had a full-night's sleep since he somehow cursed her mind and her thoughts a week ago, and she can feel herself slowly slipping into insanity. A curse is the only answer that makes sense, the only thing that gives a conceivable answer to all the wicked dreams she has been having since that moment, dreams that cause her to wake up sweaty and breathless and needing him in the middle of the night in a way she has never felt before. She has been an absolute mess, a disastrous version of her normally quite put-together self, and she is not happy about it.

He's sitting next to her now - they were partnered up by the evil Professor Onai in their first NEWT Divination class of the year - and she's holding herself rigidly, arms tight across her chest, in an attempt to not accidentally touch him. Lately, every single time they make fleeting eye contact across the table during breakfast, or when they pass each other in the hallways, a shiver runs down her spine at the unfamiliar look in his eyes and she has to avert her eyes before it's too much.

Divination has never been a favorite subject of hers - too impermeable for her tastes. She is only taking it at the NEWT level because, during her career counseling with Professor Ronen at the end of her fifth year, he had said that if she wanted to be an Unspeakable she couldn't just work with logic (a preposterous thought, but as a sixteen-year-old she hadn't seen any recourse in arguing with the Ministry's requirements). She supposedly needs to get comfortable with the intangible as well. It doesn't mean she has to enjoy it, though: she doesn't, and never will. The Divination classroom is dark and stuffy, tucked away in one of the highest towers of the castle, and the nauseating smell of incense always coats her nasal cavities long after the class has finished. She finds her thoughts getting muddled in the haze of candle smoke and swirling orbs on the shelves around her - magic somehow always feels thicker up here - and the presence of a certain someone whose knees keep brushing hers under the tiny table they're sharing, a certain someone who has - improbably, inconceivably, impossibly - hit a growth spurt that summer and now towers over her and had encompassed her completely when he knocked her to the ground, isn't helping her concentration at -

"This week, we are going to review everything we learned together last year," Professor Onai says, after the class had rearranged itself based on her instructions. Sebastian shoots a look at her as she shakes her head in an attempt to clear it and sits up straighter. She hopes that Onai's lecture will help her concentrate and clear her mind a bit. If she has something to focus on, to try and think of and remember, it will be better than him. Anything would be better than Sebastian. Onai gives an appraising look to each table before continuing her speech. "As your NEWTs are at the end of the year, we need to make sure you are as prepared as possible. Open your books to page two-hundred and thirty. Today we're going to review the art of palmistry. I should hope that you do not need the aid of your textbook to help interpret the lines in your partner's palm but in the case that you do -"

She chances a glance at Sebastian before getting out her copy of Divining the Undivinable from her bag and wishes she hadn't. He looks uncomfortably big sitting on the tiny tea chair across from her, barely any hints of the boy who had completely swept her away two years ago visible on the sharper planes of his face. When had he - had they - grown up?

Sebastian Sallow was - is - charming, and that had been her downfall. She had successfully avoided his charms the year before, and she wasn't going to let that happen this year, no matter how much her body rebelled against her mind and resolve. Because, as she reminds herself, Sebastian Sallow is also manipulative, and cold-hearted, and selfish.

"Well," she says archly, opening her book. She will not look at him. "I suppose I am still quite ignorant of the practice of Divination, so do forgive me if I have to double-check my readings in the textbook."

He says her name as she opens the book, and she ignores him. He says her name again. She continues to ignore him. He grabs the book from her hands and puts it the correct way for her. She was looking at it upside-down. Her cheeks heat up and she continues flipping through the pages, as if nothing has happened. She finds page two-hundred and thirty. She pretends to be interested in what she sees.

(Divination is unfortunately not interesting.)

Oh, fine.

"Do you want to start, or should I?"

These are the first words she has voluntarily spoken to him - not including the events of last week, which do not count as they were most decidedly not voluntary - since he called her ignorant a year and a half ago. He somehow looks surprised to see that she has addressed him, and for some reason this fills her with rage and a strange sort of confidence. Why shouldn't she be able to talk to him?

"Here," she says, putting her hand out towards him, palm up, ignoring the strange fluttering feeling in her chest when he gently grabs it with one of his. Sebastian looks up at her, waiting for her to continue speaking, and were she not looking at him so intently she would have easily missed the bob of his throat as he swallows nervously. "Show me how it's done."

Her breath catches in her throat at the small, mischievous smirk he shoots to her before he bends over her hand and gently starts tracing the lines on her palm with the fingers of the hand that's not holding hers in place. His touch is feather-light and somehow soft, despite the roughness of his fingers as they drag over her palm. Every nerve in her body seems to have moved to wherever he touches and all of the bravado and anger she had just felt is quickly melting away. When she finally finds her voice, she hates how soft and breathy it sounds. She can't look away from the sight of his larger hands caressing hers.

"Well? What do you see? Do you remember the different lines? Because I -"

She falters. The murmurs of their classmates blend together in the background and the dim lights of the candles...the hazy, thick atmosphere and his proximity and the barely there touches of his rough fingertips on her sensitive palm are altogether too overwhelming and she needs to get out of there. She's supposed to be angry with him. Furious, even. Holding this grudge has been the only way she has been able to have any sort of power over him this past year, and yet...all she can think about at the moment are the sinful dreams she's been having lately where he presses her against a wall, desperately kissing her lips, her neck - even she knows that there has to be more to it - but what?

Sebastian blinks as she snatches her hand away like it's been burned and - oh, Merlin - she shoves the textbook back into her schoolbag and almost knocks the candle on the table over and wouldn't it be awful if she had started a fire? But she can't think about any of that now in her haste to just get out of the claustrophobic Divination tower.

Vaguely, she can hear Professor Onai asking her if everything is fine and she's not sure but she thinks she mumbles something about needing to go to the Hospital Wing - that's a good enough excuse to leave, isn't it? - but then she hears his voice, deep and cutting through the fog in her mind -

"Don't worry, I'll take her and make sure she gets there fine." A muffled response from their professor and then his voice, just as clear as before. "No, I don't know what happened..."

She hears him calling her name as she flees down the spiral staircase, almost tripping over her feet in her rush to get away from him, but he catches up quickly, reaching out to grab her arm in an attempt to slow her down. She stops running immediately - she supposes her traitorous body wants to see what he has to say, or maybe it just wants to bask in his intoxicating proximity. He crowds her space, and she sees that unfamiliar look in his eyes again. So very different from the cold disdain she had seen the last time she had been this close to him, during the argument that had ended their friendship.

"Let go of me," she whispers, but there's no conviction in her voice as she gazes into his deep, brown eyes. He can tell she doesn't mean it and doesn't make any move to listen to her. Why can't she hold on to the rage? A muggle quote about anger floats through her mind: Holding on to anger is like drinking poison and expecting the other person to die. What a sweet poison her anger at Sebastian had been, while it lasted. She tries telling herself that he must still feel the same as the evening he had called her ignorant (ignoring the small voice in her head that reminded her of the letters of apology he had sent (that she had burned without reading), the times he had tried to get Anne or Ominis involved and apologize for him) - because why couldn't he just tell her himself? Maybe she had shut down any and all attempts he had made to repair the rift that he had caused in the first place, but she had been right to be so angry with him.

But oh, Merlin, he's getting closer to her, and she can now clearly see the freckles dusting his cheeks and nose and forehead and then before she knows it, his hand is sliding up her arm, leaving goosebumps everywhere he touches and then he's caressing her jaw with his rough thumb and he pauses. Her eyelids flutter closed as her head tilts towards him - she couldn't stop herself even if she wanted to (what does she want?). She can feel his warm breath ghosting over her lips and she has the improbable, ridiculous thought - how is he remembering to breathe? - before he speaks. His lips brush against hers with every soft word and a deep shiver runs through her body.

"I," she hears him say, his voice so, so low, "haven't been able to think since last week."

That's all she needs to hear, the brush of his bottom lip against hers all she needs to feel, to push her into closing what minuscule distance there is between them and then his lips are on hers and it's better than anything she's been imagining. His mouth is soft against hers, insistent, and her hands go up to grip the collar of his plaid jacket to make sure he doesn't go away or disappear on her.

She knows she's behaving wantonly, snogging Sebastian Sallow in the middle of the hallway where anyone could come across them, but third period has only just started and besides, she has had a week of restless nights being tortured by thoughts of him. A week of a few hours of sleep found here and there. Just one kiss should be enough to help her get over these strange feelings, right? She only feels like this because having him lie on top of her after he crashed into her - that satisfying weight of him - the friction of his thumb brushing against her nipple - had made her realize just how stupid she had been, holding this grudge against him for -

She whimpers in protest but it quickly turns into a moan as his mouth moves away from hers and down to her neck. He pulls at her tight collar desperately - she hears some seams ripping - to give him better access to it, and she finds herself arching her back and pushing her body closer to his as he nuzzles her neck with his nose before giving it open, sloppy kisses. When he hears her, he moves back to kissing her, greedily capturing every breathy moan that comes out of her mouth, but the noises coming from him are matching hers, and at the sound she feels an unfamiliar clenching deep in her stomach. Her fingers come up to his hair, going through the silky curls over and over - how are they as soft as his lips? - and he slowly pushes her back until she's sandwiched between his warm body and the cold stone of the wall behind her.

He lets out a low, frantic growl as a hand goes to grip the back of her head, holding her in place as he slants his mouth over hers. He tastes like cinnamon and...like something forbidden. What has gotten into her? She hates him, and yet...

They have abandoned any pretense of propriety - had they ever even been trying? - by this point. His tongue swipes across her lips and then she is completely lost to him, to every sensation of his mouth, and tongue, on hers. His large hands - the wicked hands that had been caressing her palm and had caused this whole mess in the first place - have moved to her waist and are pulling her even closer to him. When he pulls away briefly, she whines in protest, opening her eyes to glare at him. The sight of him, flushed and breathless, his eyes wide and pupils dilated - must match her own appearance because she sees the same hunger she feels in his eyes. She has never seen Sebastian Sallow so disheveled, but she finds she quite likes it and tugs on his curls with a whine. He obliges eagerly, bringing his mouth back to hers.

She's pressed as tightly against him as she can possibly be, and yet it still isn't enough. Her back arches once again, trying to find something, and then he slots one of his knees between her legs. She moans at the friction caused by his movements, can feel an unfamiliar slickness forming at the juncture between her legs, and this seems to spur him on further as his kisses get more desperate and sloppy. She moves against his leg, trying to relieve some of her discomfort, gasping into his mouth, when -

They freeze. Even if they are fully, completely, absorbed by...whatever this is, they can't ignore the strange, metallic clanking sound coming from their left. Sebastian pulls his head back from her slowly, reluctantly, breathing heavily, and looks over to see what the noise is. She wants to, but all of a sudden the horrifying reality of what they've been doing sinks in and oh god what if the noise is a person? Someone who has now seen her in what might possibly be the most mortifying moment of her life - desperately snogging Sebastian Sallow - and she finds she can't look over. She tucks her head into his neck to hide her face as she listens.

"I demand that you get away from her at once, you knave! Cease your attack!"

The voice sounds vaguely familiar, but she's certain that it doesn't belong to any of her classmates. He almost sounds...medieval, but -

"I made haste when I heard sounds of distress coming from down the hallway," the voice continues, "and it appears I have arrived not a moment too soon!"

She brings her head away from Sebastian's shoulder but still refuses to look over at whoever is speaking, instead choosing to stare at Sebastian's face. He's still deliciously flushed from their snogging, still breathing heavily, but now he looks terribly confused. His brows are furrowed, mouth opening and closing as he tries to come up with a response to the outrage currently being directed at him.

The unknown man is continuing his diatribe, almost not even stopping to breathe as he gets more and more worked up, and she hears some more clanking as he reaches a particularly exciting moment in his rant. Sebastian looks increasingly confused, but still shields her with his body, not moving away from her at all despite the accusations.

Her curiosity gets the better of her and she peeks over to see who it is.

The man who has been reprimanding Sebastian so boldly is none other than Sir Cadogan. Although she's never interacted with him directly, she often hears him yelling at his pony as she passes his portrait on her way to Divination. The knight is standing between two witches having tea, who are glaring at him quite angrily as he gesticulates wildly - every movement of his sword comes dangerously close to their display of cakes and sandwiches and it looks like he has already broken some plates. His armor is ill-fitting and loose on him, which explains the terrible noise.

"You rascally knave! I assure you that you do not want to find out what will happen to you if you do not unhand the fair maiden."

He brandishes his sword again, and the woman closest to him quickly snatches her tea cup away to save it from being broken as well. "Come now, Sir Cadogan," she says, exasperated. "Can't you see that these two are in love?"

The other woman joins her protests, nodding vigorously. "Yes, exactly that. Leave them be!"

"Nonsense," he exclaims. "I too have succumbed to my baser instincts on occasion and I can assure you that this is decidedly not what is occurring."

As Sir Cadogan continues to alternate between lecturing her and Sebastian, and directing his two attention to the ladies who are defending them, she looks back to the boy in question. Sebastian is looking down at her, a bemused smile on his lips and she feels a twinge in her chest. His face is still so close to hers that if she wants to, they could be snogging again with barely any effort and her eyes briefly flicker down to his tempting mouth before going back to his eyes, but...

What had gotten into her? What is she doing?

He had somehow managed to manipulate her again, because there is no way that this situation could have happened otherwise. All of a sudden, the anger she's been feeling for the past year and a half - that had left for a brief, blissful moment - surges again, and she pushes Sebastian away from her with as much force as she can muster. She almost feels bad as the happiness in his face turns to confusion, then frustration as he realizes she's getting away from him.

"Stay away from me," she hisses, picking up her discarded schoolbag from its spot on the ground. As she stalks down the hall, she can hear Sir Cadogan cheering on her bravery over the ringing in her ears.

She has a lot of thinking to do.

Sebastian Sallow's List of Priorities (in no particular order):

Figure out what the hell I'm going to do when I graduate;

Figure out how the hell I'm going to finish this bloody Charms essay before tomorrow; and

Figure out what the hell is going on between us

Sebastian sits in an undisturbed corner of the library - nobody ever comes to this table because it's tucked away between shelves of incredibly dense magical theory books - and is twirling his quill in his fingers, watching the ink splatter on the list he spent his precious time writing instead of the Charms essay he should be working on. He's far away from the first-years who like to congregate by the windows and watch the leaves fall softly to the ground rather than study for their classes. He's made especially sure that he is far, far away from her.

It's not his choice, mind you, but he needs to be a gentleman about these things. If she needs some time and space to figure out that she's as crazy for him as he is her, fine. But even Sebastian Sallow's patience runs thin, and he's not sure how much longer he can give her to come to her senses before he snaps and takes matters into his own hands. If things were up to him, the two of them would be sitting far too close together now in this secluded corner, and maybe he would need to put a hand over her mouth to ensure her complete silence as he runs a hand up her thigh.

Now that he knows what delicious sounds can come out of her mouth - sounds that he caused - he's been having a hard time concentrating on, well, anything. Sebastian surreptitiously glances across the library to where she's sitting and studying with his sister and Imelda. Ever since the events after their Divination class, Sir Cadogan has taken it upon himself to follow Sebastian around the halls of the castle, tripping through frames and disrupting their inhabitants as he lectures Sebastian on love. The tea party women had managed to convince the knight that he had disrupted an amorous exchange, and Sebastian fervently wishes they hadn't.

The whole school is abuzz with rumors about who it could be. Nobody has even come close so far with their guesses, but Anne and Imelda are having too much fun teasing him about it. Somehow, she has managed to avoid suspicion - he wonders how this is even possible, since she's never been able to hide what she's thinking. He makes eye contact with her - has she been staring at him this whole time? - and she flushes before looking over to Imelda, who's laughing too loudly at something Anne's just said. Sebastian can't tear his eyes away from her profile, his eyes following the curve of her eyebrow, the slight upturn of her lips as she smiles at her friends, her eyes as they dart back to him, her cheeks as she turns an even darker shade of red as she realizes he's still watching her. She tucks a lock of hair behind her ear, and rests her chin on her hand as she tries to look absorbed in what Anne is saying to her.

Sebastian wonders if she's thought about him as much as he's thought about her. Judging by how she had snogged him back, he's positive that she feels the same way, but then he remembers how she had looked at him before she fled, and he's not so sure. He sighs as he looks back to his list, bringing his quill back to the third item and ripping the paper as he crosses it out again. His mind has been going in circles since that moment and he doesn't know what to think. He slowly puts everything into his schoolbag before heading out of the library for yet another freezing cold shower that hopefully tempers his now-permanent state of arousal whenever she's around.

He doesn't notice her eyes following him as he walks out of the library.

He doesn't hear her hurried excuse to Anne and Imelda as she shoves her things into her bag and rushes to follow him.

He doesn't hear her light footsteps as she gets closer to him.

When she puts a hand out to touch his arm as he waits for the moving staircase to stop, with a soft, "Sebastian" accompanying it, he nearly jumps out of his skin. He was so absorbed with thoughts of her, that to see her standing at his side, closer than she had been since they kissed was almost his snapping point.

"Can we talk?" she asks, looking almost embarrassed as she avoids his eyes. She instead looks determinedly at his collar. He thinks she probably notices that he swallows nervously before acquiescing, but she says nothing as she turns and starts hurrying away from him without waiting to see if he follows her.

She must know that he would follow her anywhere at this point.

They weave through hallways - Sebastian vaguely wonders where exactly they're going - before reaching a little alcove, hidden by a suit of armor. She looks around before pulling him into it. It's almost curfew and the halls are never that busy when the weather is as beautiful as it has been these days - the end of September seems to be clinging on to the summer for as long as possible.

Her lips are on his before he can even ask her what she needed to talk with him about, hungry and desperate. Sebastian is too stunned to pull away - not that he would actually want to. Her arms wrap around his neck, keeping Sebastian close, slender fingers sliding through his hair.

"What," she says breathlessly between kisses - almost not even moving her mouth away from his enough to be able to enunciate properly, "are you doing to me? I haven't been able to think for the last month."

Sebastian smiles into her mouth, wondering if she knows that she's repeating the very thing he told her two weeks ago. Maybe she has been thinking of him all this time - he almost hopes that she's been suffering as much as he has. Instead of responding, he moves a hand to cup her jaw, deepening the kiss. His other hand moves to her waist, gripping it tightly, pulling her flush against his body and she gasps into his mouth. He slowly moves her closer to the window alcove behind them, snogging her senseless the whole time. She moans into his mouth which just spurs him on further - her skirt rides up to her hips as Sebastian trails a hand up her stockinged thigh and they both gasp when his hand reaches skin. Her skin is so, so soft and her breathing gets faster as he continues to caress her inner thigh, closer to the bend between her thigh and her center. Sebastian wonders if she's ever been touched there before by someone else and jealousy flares up inside of him at the thought.

In one swift move, he scoops her up and places her so that she's sitting on the window-ledge, the dusky light of the sunset illuminating her from behind and making her wispy flyaway hairs a golden halo around her. Sebastian's breath catches in his throat - has he ever seen anything so beautiful as her in that moment? - she's staring up at him, her fingers playing with the hair at the nape of his neck, her breathing shallow and anticipation in her eyes. "You're," he starts saying and his throat goes dry. He brings a hand up to tuck the errant lock of hair - the one she had tucked earlier in the library - behind her ear and she leans her head into his touch, closing her eyes briefly before looking up at him again with wide eyes. "You're perfect."

She smiles faintly and pulls his head back down towards hers and now she's brushing her lips against his, teasing him, before it's too much and he grips the back of her head, holding her in place as he crushes his mouth against hers in a bruising kiss. Her knees are on either side of his waist, and she desperately grinds her core against his throbbing erection and they both groan at the friction. Sebastian moves his hands down to her thighs again as he kisses her, slowly caressing his way up and pushing her skirt up further until it's completely bunched around her waist. She gasps into his mouth at his first tentative touch after he pushes aside her undergarments. Sebastian swipes a finger up her slit, through the slick that coats it, and then he starts circling her clit with slow, even strokes. She shivers against him - at his touch - clinging tightly to his shoulders and gasping into his mouth as he continues.

Every little noise coming out of her mouth, feeling how wet she is, how the slickness keeps growing growing growing makes Sebastian hungry for more - it isn't enough -

Slowly - so slowly - he wants to savor this moment - he lowers himself until he's kneeling between her legs and he looks up at her. Her face is deliciously flushed, all swollen lips and hair in a wild cloud around her face and all she can do is stare down at him. Her chest is heaving and she tries to close her legs - hide what is exposed to him - but he holds her thighs firmly in place on either side of his head. He turns his head and kisses her inner thigh, maintaining eye contact as he swipes his tongue across where he's just kissed, moving closer towards her slick center.

"Oh," she breathes, not-quite-a-word, not-quite-a-gasp, when his mouth reaches her center and hovers over it, lips slowly teasing her the way she had just teased him. Sebastian tentatively runs his tongue up her slit; the loud moan she lets out when he reaches her clit makes him stay there, applying light and not-so-light pressure in equal measure.

Her hands are scrabbling at his hair, digging into his scalp, ruining his earlier attempts to make it look presentable, hopefully attractive, for her these days. She's pushing his head deeper into the space between her legs, starting to rock herself slightly on his mouth, and Sebastian is happy to oblige. He eagerly laps up her slit, and the obscene wet noises as he continues combined with her whimpers and barely-spoken profanities "oh-yes-fuck-yes-there-please-" are making him hard beyond belief. He's straining against his trousers, begging to be let free. Without moving his face from her, he unbuttons his trousers and starts palming himself, using the slickness weeping out of the tip as lubrication.

She's abandoned all control at this point, grinding herself into his face as he laps her up, and it's driving him wild - knowing that he's doing this to her - causing her to be so undone. Normally she's so poised and aloof, never letting any real emotion flicker across her face, so to see her so desperate and needy and wanting him so -

Sebastian's gasping into her, tongue deep inside of her, "ohmygod" he hears her whisper, her hips driving into his face when she shudders and goes still, pulsing around the tongue that's deep inside of it. He slows down, smiling as he continues to run his tongue up her slit until she's responsive again. He kisses her inner thigh and hears her moan before getting up, caressing a finger down her love-struck face and leaning his head down to kiss her deeply. With his other hand he's still touching himself - the thought that she can taste herself on his tongue driving him crazy - and he starts rubbing its blunt head against her swollen clit. She takes it out of his hand- he groans at the feeling of her soft hands (the hands he had held a week ago in Divination and pictured doing this exact thing) tentatively caressing his length before she begins to slide it up and down her slit, coating it in her wetness.

Sebastian has surrendered all control to her - resting his hands on either side of her hips on the windowsill, tucking his head into the crook of her neck and thrusting with her movements as he loses himself in the sensation of sliding through her slick folds. He can feel his release building building building, and when he finally comes, all over her perfect, pink center, it feels like a finally.

Sebastian feels so, so heavy as he pulls his head away from her shoulder, as if he could fall into a blissful sleep right there, in the little window alcove where they've hidden themselves away. The sun has now set completely and they're in shadow as they stare at each other, the sound of their ragged breathing filling the tiny space.

"Sebastian, I..."

She's staring at him with an unfathomable expression on her face, still holding him in her hand, her other hand playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. They look down and he feels his face heat up even more at the mess he's made - he quickly pulls out his wand and cleans her up, before looking back at her, giving her a wry smile as he buttons up his pants and helps her off the ledge. "What did you want to talk to me about, again?"

She gives a slight shake of her head and looks away, but she can't hide the small smile that's growing on her face just like she can't help her eyes that keep wandering over to his. He knows the growing smile on his face matches hers - did that really just happen? She reaches over to lace her fingers through his as they walk around the suit of armor. "I - it's not important."

"Come on," he says, not being able to resist the opportunity to tease her - he's somehow managed to break through the barriers she's set up around her, and he's not about to let the opportunity slide. "Surely that's not what you had in mind when you..."

Sebastian trails off as he sees the expression in her face turn to one of horror - he didn't think his teasing was that bad, was it? - but she's also pulling her hand out of his like she's been burned and -

He follows her gaze, to where it's fixed at the end of the hallway and he knows that once again his face mimics hers. He will never live this down.

Standing at the end of the hallway and looking like two cats who've just found a huge dish of milk, are his sister and Imelda.

Misery.

Complete and utter misery are what she's feeling, if she has to put it into words, which she does. Writing things down always helps her out, helps her organize her thoughts into some sort of order. Except...this time around, it's not really helping. She can't seem to make any sense of her feelings for Sebastian.

She looks over the muddled mess of words she's written down - stream of consciousness, incomprehensible babble - and sighs. She's been dreaming of falling in love since she was a young girl - Jane Austen will do that to you - and can't believe that now that she's had her opportunity, it has to go and be with Sebastian Sallow. Because it has to be love, hasn't it?

There can be no other explanation for the painful way her stomach twists itself up whenever she catches a glimpse of him these days, the way he's consuming her every thought - even when she's dreaming she can't escape him. She can't get the sight of his tousled curls between her legs, his mischievous, warm brown eyes looking up at her as she had the most mind-numbing, toe-curling orgasm of her life - none of the times she's touched herself have ever come close to the sensations he managed to evoke.

Every time she's walking through the hallways between classes and hears his loud voice as he jokes with Garreth, or Ominis, about quidditch or Merlin-knows-what her eyes snap to his face as if he were the sun, and she a sunflower searching for its warmth. And he is most decidedly not the sun. He has the tendency to snort when he laughs, and he laughs too much, especially at his own jokes. Sometimes he talks while he eats. He always twirls his quill between his long fingers in the most annoying way, splattering ink onto any parchment unfortunate to be caught underneath. But he also...

He also always goes out of his way to prepare Ominis's Potions ingredients (why Ominis decided to take and was accepted into NEWT level is a mystery to everyone), occasionally stops to play a round of gobstones with Zenobia when he has the time. Sebastian can often be found in his favorite armchair in the Slytherin common room, resting his face on his hand as he idly flips through the pages of some book, looking altogether too handsome as he does so. And when he stretches and yawns at the end of every Arithmancy lesson - like he is now - his shirt lifts up a bit and she can see a tan sliver of his stomach and -

Snapping in front of her: she blinks and looks over: when she sees it's Imelda her face immediately turns beet red and she grabs the paper she's been doodling on and rips it to shreds as fast as she can.

"Are you fantasizing about a certain annoying someone?" Imelda asks with a wicked grin, dramatically looking over her shoulder at the certain someone in question. He's still stretching, blinking sleepily; when he notices the two girls watching him he flushes deeply. Her stomach twinges again at the sight of him noticing her - has he thought about her since that moment as much as she has? What would she do if he had? Or...if he hadn't? - and she focuses instead on the paper she is currently destroying.

"Imelda," she hisses, glaring at her best friend, "stop."

Imelda does not stop.

Imelda doesn't stop during their walk to Herbology, and she does not stop as they set up their planting stations, and she most certainly does not stop as they mutter charms over their plants.

Ever since she experienced the most wonderful moment in her whole life, followed by the most mortifying, Anne and Imelda have not stopped pestering her about it. They've finally solved the 'Sir Cadogan Puzzle' - I knew it was you all along, claims Anne - but if they truly knew what had happened between her and Sebastian, she's afraid the two of them would simply combust. She loves them dearly, but they never know when to stop, and they've been pushing and poking and prodding her for more information the whole week. She has managed to remain tight-lipped and, she hopes, mysterious about the whole thing, but she's getting tired of the teasing.

"Really," Anne says, wiping her forehead and leaving a trail of dirt behind, "if you would only talk to him, I would stop bothering you. Promise."

"Yes," chimes in Imelda, on her other side, wrestling the leaves of her own plant into submission. "You know, after we saw the two of you holding hands and looking at each other with stars in your eyes, I'm really starting to doubt that you hate him as much as you claim."

"Were the two of you snogging in secret all of last year too? Because, I'm starting to get annoyed thinking of all the times I had to talk to my brother for you because of your stubborn pride."

Does she still hate him? She certainly thinks she should, but then her thoughts get terribly confusing as she continues to think about him, and she realizes all of her old hatred has long since faded. Anne has forgiven her brother, Ominis has forgiven him, and all that remains is her.

They should talk, but she doesn't know what to say.

She's afraid that maybe the man she's been inventing in her mind this past month is simply a figment of her imagination - a fictitious being created by an accumulation of stolen glances when he doesn't know she's watching, someone who all of their classmates seem to like, someone who is very different from the fifteen-year-old boy she had that terrible argument with all that time ago. Maybe he doesn't actually exist.

She would be crushed if he's hiding the fact that he still holds on to that desperate darkness that had driven him to save Anne by any means necessary.

And so she keeps her space. She watches him from afar, feeling the hatred slowly melt off of her, falling more in love every day, but too cowardly to make the next move.

Anne and Imelda continue bantering on either side of her, not noticing - or, more likely, not caring - that she isn't participating.

Sebastian's hands are sweating. He wipes them on the inside of his robes as he glances at the girl next to him. She's holding herself rigidly, but she did this to herself, sitting next to him at dinner as she had.

Well, sitting next to him hadn't been completely her idea if he's being honest. He'd been having dinner with Anne, and the two of them were dying of laughter as she recounted seeing Duncan Hobhouse get tormented by Peeves earlier that day. One moment, Anne had been demonstrating what she had seen using her potatoes and green beans as props, and the next, a particularly evil grin had lit up her face as she pushed her plate away with gusto and jumped to her feet, calling her over.

"It would be such a shame for these potatoes to go to waste, seeing as I have a very important meeting to attend," Anne had said, after pushing her friend into the very tight space at Sebastian's side. "Never mind the mess, I can assure you I didn't actually eat the food..."

And with that, Anne had flounced away, Imelda on her arm, the two girls cackling to each other as they snuck wicked glances over their shoulders at the couple.

A couple who is now steadfastly avoiding each other and trying their hardest not to even brush elbows. Sebastian is altogether too aware of her presence, has been for the better part of a month, and his patience is dangerously close to snapping. He keeps getting maddeningly close to finally getting her to open up to him - had actually achieved it for a few blissful moments - just to have it be taken away again. It's almost embarrassing how many times he's thought about their encounter. She had been everything he'd been dreaming about and more - soft, responsive, just as desperate as him - so why has she been avoiding him so thoroughly?

Yes, he's caught her staring at him more times than he can count, with that same unfathomable expression she had before, almost dreamy - wistful - could it be love? But he knows that it's preposterous, wishful thinking on his part. If it were love - if she felt the same crazy, tumultuous emotions that he was feeling constantly - she wouldn't be so cold towards him. Even if she was staring at him more than ever before.

He doesn't notice as she slips a folded paper into the book sitting next to his plate, but he does notice that she sits next to him for barely five minutes, not even touching the food that Anne has so graciously left her, before she gets up and slips away without so much as speaking a single word to him, or even looking in his direction at all.

Sebastian's sitting in a nearly empty common room after curfew, flipping through his book as he normally does this time of day, when she sees him pause.

Although she's been waiting for this moment, watching him from the corner she's tucked herself away in, she feels ready to pass out from nerves. Her heart's ready to burst out of her chest as she watches him curiously pick up the letter she slipped in his book earlier, brow furrowed. She wrings her hands nervously as she watches him read the letter and flip over the page to see if there's more, and then he goes back to read it again from the beginning.

She wasn't expecting him to read it a second time, let alone a third time, still with an inscrutable expression on his face. Maybe she should have positioned herself closer so she could see every emotion flickering through his face as he reads - she's too far away to see anything and she curses her lack of foresight. If she moves now, he'll see her, and she doesn't even know what she was thinking when she wrote the letter, when she managed to convince Anne to help her get close to Sebastian earlier that night during supper, when she moved herself to sit in this corner just so she could watch him find and read the -

"Hello."

She nearly jumps out of her skin with a muffled shriek at the sound of his voice so close to her. Why does she feel almost guilty when she looks up at him? She's so, so afraid.

Emotions have never come easily to her. Showing them is something she's not sure will ever come naturally - Anne and Imelda can laugh and shout without a care in the world, but she always holds herself back. Hides a small part of herself away, that only she knows about. Baring herself completely to Sebastian in the letter she feverishly wrote the day before was like ripping out a part of her soul and giving it to him to keep. Once the words were written down, there was no way to take them back, not that she wants to.

But what if he rejects her?

Her eyes get hot and tears cloud her vision as she stares up at him, still wringing her hands together over and over, feeling like she's positively going to burst with the force of the emotions roiling around inside of her. Why did she think this would be a good idea?

Now he's kneeling in front of her, holding her hands in his bigger, rougher ones - reminiscent of that fateful day so long ago in Divination when he had flustered her so - and a thumb is gently wiping away the big, fat tears she didn't even realize were rolling down her cheeks and she lifts her face from watching their intertwined hands and gazes tremulously into his eyes.

They are so, so gentle and warm and full of love, but the emotions are still too much for her and she can't stop crying for some unfathomable reason, so the kiss they share is wet and lovely and full of incredulous laughter.

"I love you too," he whispers between kisses, over and over again, until the words almost lose meaning - but these words could never lose their meaning when they come from him.

  In the years to come, they always bicker about who was the first to say it. Sebastian says that writing doesn't count - that his words are the ones that decide who is the victor in this small argument - but she always just smiles at his insistence, knowing that he's kept her letter tucked inside whatever book he's reading since it first fell onto his lap.

[orqheuss]

HL modern!AU

MC: I have decided I am a snack. People are just not hungry.

Sebastian, under his breath: I'm fucking starving

[snetofed]

Mattheo Riddle

I wake up feeling something warm beneath me, I force my eyes open and yawn. I see Mattheo lying beneath me, asleep. My leg is over his lap and my head on his chest but I don’t feel the need to move.

I’ve started to feel strangely calm around Mattheo, I know he won’t hurt me, in fact I’m pretty sure he would hurt anyone for even looking at me the wrong way, he just has a terrible way of showing it sometimes.

But still, he cares.

“Are you awake?” Mattheo murmurs opening his eyes and pulling me closer to him. “Good morning.” Mattheo sighs as he sits leaning against the headboard. “I could get used to this,” he smiles.

A laugh escapes me and I sit next to him. “Oh yeah?” I raise an eyebrow and he laughs next. “Of course I do, a beautiful girl in my bed next to me, what more could I want?”

Merlin, help me.

“I’ve been thinking. You asked me to give you another chance and I think I want to do it, but it’s going to be hard so I need you to be patient with me.”

Mattheo’s face is still, too still, and suddenly it’s replaced by a big smile and he pulls me to him. “This isn’t a dream, is it? Theo hasn’t dared you to say this?”

I laugh. “It’s not a dream and there’s no Theo involved.”

He moves me until I’m sitting on top of him, his eyes locked on mine as he looks at me. “You’re so beautiful,” he smiles, moving his hand to cup my cheek. “So damn beautiful. Thank you, my love, thank you.”

“I wasn’t expecting such a great reaction,” I smile at him and he chuckles softly. “You’ve always been my little girl, you just haven’t realized it yet.”

“Yeah, yeah, okay, calm down.” “He doesn’t.” He does the exact opposite, pulling my lips down to meet his, and I have no urge to pull away as I wrap my arms around his neck and kiss him back.

His hands move to my hips, pulling me closer, and I lean deeper into the kiss before he pulls away. “I’m not going to push you away, Y/N.”

“You’re not, I’ll tell you when to stop.”

He looks at me hesitantly before nodding. “Yeah, okay.” His eyes are locked on mine as if assessing every detail before his lips find mine again, this time the kiss is slow and careful, as if he’s afraid one wrong move will send me into a tailspin.

“Please don’t, you say I’m not broken and then you treat me like I’m made of glass. Stop it.”

“I’m trying to hold back, I’m not trying to scare you, baby.”

“I already told you I’d tell you when to stop, and I haven’t told you to stop.”

His hands are on me, one in my hair and one around my waist, pulling me impossibly close as his lips meet mine. This time, all of his gentle demeanor is completely gone, he’s kissing me like I’m a hungry man and I don’t push him away.

His lips taste like cigarettes and firewhiskey, which I’ll ask him about later, but right now I’m enjoying this. I’m enjoying not being afraid of his touch.

“Matty,” I gasp, shaking my head as I try to get air back into my lungs but Mattheo doesn’t stop, his lips moving to my neck as both of his hands move to my hips, holding me in place.

“God, how I’ve missed this,” he murmurs into my neck, as his lips slide down to my collarbone, where he places more wet kisses. My breath hitches at the sensation.

This is nothing like what those men did to me. It's slow, passionate, and I feel every ounce of love Mattheo gives me. His need for me as his lips move down my body.

I squirm against him, his breath hitching as his lips meet mine again, kissing me desperately as if it were the last time he would do so...

follow me please..

[anto-pops]

Fissured Composure - Sebastian Sallow x Female!Reader

Summary: After watching you hold your own against a handsy classmate, Sebastian is feeling particularly needy and steals you away to the Undercroft to show you just how worked up your right hook got him.

Alternatively summarized as Sebastian reverently going down on you after you break Leander's nose

Based on this request I received! Hope you like it anon :)) 

Word Count: 6.2k

Warnings: 18+, aged up characters, minor violence, explicit sexual content, rough sex

Full fic can be found here on Ao3 as always !

Many of your friends would agree that you had the patience of a damn Saint. 

Beyond dealing with Sebastian’s hard-headedness on a regular basis and keeping up appearances with your classmates, it was a wonder you had managed to maintain your cool, collected facade for so long. You could recall losing it once before, shortly after Professor Fig died. But the whole debacle had gone down in the safety and privacy of the Room of Requirement, so no one had been around to witness your indignant anger take root and assist you in trashing two thirds of your sacred space. 

That had been two years ago, so you liked to think you’d gotten better at controlling your emotions since then.

Leander fucking Prewett, however, had seemingly made it his life’s mission to frustrate you to no foreseeable end.

While you had felt bad for him in your fifth-year and entertained his rambling mostly out of pity, somewhere along the way your lack of interest got lost in translation. He was a rather boastful individual, preferring to brag about himself and put down anyone that excelled in areas he wanted to be the best in. His attitude had only worsened with age, and for the last few months he had suddenly taken to attempting to woo you in passing. 

His efforts were too pathetic to take to heart, but you certainly hadn’t told Sebastian about it yet. Not unless you wanted to trigger a fight that you knew you wouldn’t be able to intervene in, because the whole reason Leander was even trying with you was to get under your boyfriend’s skin. 

Today was Wednesday, and you shared Herbology class with Leander, much to your displeasure. Your attempts at escaping out the door quickly had been thwarted when Professor Garlick asked to speak with you after class, and despite hoping against all odds that you would be left alone, Prewett was waiting for you at the top of the steps when you ascended the staircase. 

“Ah, there you are,” he drawled, with far too much familiarity for your liking. “Did Professor Garlick hold you back to scold you for something?” 

You grasped at the fringes of your self-restraint with everything in you. “No, we were just discussing some extra assignments she gave me last week.” 

Wanting to leave the interaction at that, you picked up your pace and strode past him, eager to meet up with Sebastian and Ominis for lunch. At the very least, Sebastian’s presence would act as a safeguard against Leander’s incessant pestering. Unfortunately, the Gryffindor had no qualms about lengthening his stride to match your own, and he fell annoyingly into step beside you. 

He raked one of his hands through his long strands of red hair, trying and failing to raise a brow at you questioningly. Instead he just looked constipated. “Wow, extra assignments? You must be some child genius turned prodigy, I can’t think of anyone who willingly says yes to more homework.” 

“...I’ve been doing it for two years, Leander.” 

Waving you off, he pressed on, “Then you’re way smarter than you let on.” What? “Not that I’ve heard otherwise from anyone, but someone as bright as you likely values intellect and wit, and I can’t help but notice Sebastian is in short supply of both these days–” 

“Leander, now really isn’t the time.” Not this shit again. You pushed through the double doors leading to Central Hall, desperate to put your two Slytherin companions in between yourself the daft idiot tailing you. 

“Oh, come on. I’m only suggesting we take some time to study together. Or maybe we could take a stroll through the Library since you’re so fond of books. Everyone knows you’ve got a thing for sneaking into the Restricted Section, although sometimes I wonder how much reading you actually do when you disappear there with Sallow.” 

By now you had made it beside the fountain in the middle of the room, but your legs halted entirely when you registered the implication hidden in his words. One of your nails broke as you dug your fingers into the cover of your textbook, and you willed the thrum of your blood roaring in your ears to lessen as you finally pivoted to face Leander fully. 

Your expression was stormy when you fixed your eyes on his beady ones, and you allowed yourself a moment to appreciate the nervous bob of his throat. “What is it you think I do then, Leander? What vapid, tasteless thoughts do you have whipping around in that giant head of yours, hm?” 

At least he had the good sense to look sheepish, but he masked the look quickly with that false bravado that made your hands twitch. He raised his arms in a gesture of surrender, “Relax, doll. I’m just connecting the dots out loud. What does your prized boytoy tempt you with to convince you to break the rules so often?” 

Merlin’s bloody balls, if you didn’t leave now, you were going to lose it in the middle of the school. There was no hiding your blatant scowl of disgust, but you found the frayed tethers of your composure and grabbed the ends like a lifeline. You pulled a deep breath into your lungs, exhaling in a way that conveyed your thinning temper, and turned to walk away. 

You saw Sebastian standing on the other side of Central Hall talking to Garreth, and he was spying over the redhead’s shoulder to watch you. His face was contorted into a dark, threatening expression, and you knew he could read your own emotions plainly on your face. He was well aware that you were pissed off, and he jumped into action then, muttering something to Weasley under his breath before he was striding across the foyer to get to you. 

You’d made it roughly three steps away from Leander when you suddenly felt his slimy hand slithering around your waist to haul you back against his chest. The brazen action took you by surprise, which was the only reason the bastard succeeded in squeezing the curve of your hip so generously. The feeling had you tensing all over, and you dimly registered Sebastian’s murderous expression nearing the opposite side of the fountain before your own anger took root. 

“What, you’re not even going to dignify me with a response? That’s awfully cruel–” 

A faceful of your fist cut him off mid sentence, and you watched through your narrowed eyes as Leander’s head flew back, his momentum carrying him to the ground in a sprawled, limp heap. You heard a series of gasps erupt from the students that were seated nearby, but you didn’t care. It took you a second to process the scene as you blinked the rage from your mind, but once you had, you were pleased to find Prewett’s nose hugging his cheek at a very broken angle. 

“There’s your response, you prick,” you swore at him, bending down to snatch up your Herbology textbook that had fallen from your grip. Your knuckles throbbed from the impact still, but you simply flexed your fingers and shook the pain away. It felt good to get that out of your system, and entirely worth the bruises you would surely be sporting in the morning. “Do yourself a favor and stay the hell away from me, or I’ll be happy to show you exactly what I’ve learned from the books in the Restricted Section.” 

As soon as you moved away from Leander, a group of younger students were flocking to his side, wisely giving you a wide berth as you left. Sebastian was frozen still as a statue on the other side of the fountain, looking at you slack-jawed with admiration twinkling in his dark eyes. You smiled softly at him, the look so at odds with the feral energy you had just exhibited twenty seconds prior.  

“I– what the bloody hell was that?” Sebastian asked at the same time you circled your arm around his waist to lead him away from the bleeding Gryffindor. 

“It was well deserved, that’s what it was,” you replied evenly, and then you felt Sebastian’s fingertips digging into the small of your back. “Don’t worry about it, please. He won’t bother me anymore, that’s for damn sure.” 

Sebastian’s laugh sounded breathless, and he shook his head in disbelief, his pupils blown wide as he stared down at you. “Oh I’ll definitely be needing the backstory to that whole altercation at some point, but I’m more hung up on the fact that you actually punched somebody. You never get physical like that, where in Merlin’s name did that come from?” 

You’d been leading Sebastian towards the Great Hall, having had your mind set on lunch for the better part of a half hour. But then you felt Sebastian take control of steering, and instead of turning down the corridor that led to your destination, he instead appeared to be guiding you in the direction of the Dark Arts Tower. “You’re acting like it’s unheard of for someone to lose their temper. In case you forgot, Prewett is particularly insufferable. Today he crossed one too many lines, so I reeducated him. End of story.” 

“I don’t think you understand,” Sebastian murmured as you came up the staircase leading to a familiar alcove, and things suddenly started to click into place. “That was quite possibly the sexiest thing you’ve ever done.”

All the blood in your body seemed to flood into your cheeks then. Sebastian gazed down at you hungrily, whipping his wand out briefly to unlock the latch concealing the entryway behind the large clock. It opened with a clang, and before you could formulate a response to his statement, he was gently pushing you through the opening ahead of him. 

While the two of you descended the narrow stairwell leading into the Undercroft, Sebastian replayed the glorious sight of your wicked right hook in his mind. He didn’t know what the hell Leander had been whispering to you about, but the look on your face had told him it wasn’t anything pleasant. Being the chivalrous and overprotective boyfriend he was, of course he’d bailed on his conversation with Garreth to step in. 

Watching Prewett’s offensive appendage coil around your waist had sealed the deal, however; Sebastian had fully intended on sending the Gryffindor into an early grave. But then you’d dropped your items and spun around so fast– your textbook was still falling when your fist connected with his nose. It wasn’t the most tactful means of defense for a lot of people. After all, in a world of magic, who the hell bothered with brawling? There was no denying the appeal of it though. It was a more personal way of telling someone to go fuck themselves, and watching you set your boundries in such a way had driven Sebastian’s blood supply straight to his cock. 

He liked this unrestrained side of you. He was desperate to see more of it. 

Once you were past the threshold of the gate, you stopped to turn to Sebastian, ready to clarify that seriously– was he this affected by you throwing a punch? But then his larger body slammed against you, stealing the words from your throat as he captured your lips in a frantic, hungry kiss, and you were manhandled into his arms so he could walk the two of you over to the lounge stuffed away in the corner of the room. 

As soon as your ass made contact with the velvet cushions, Sebastian broke away so his hands could get to work on hauling your skirt down your legs. The ferocity of the movement nearly sent you flying to the floor with the attire, but then the freckled man was moving back into your personal space so abruptly, your teeth knocked together before he began biting and sucking at your bottom lip. 

“Fuck– Sebastian, what the hell’s gotten into you?” The pain from his ministrations quickly blurred together with the unmistakable arousal pooling between your legs, and when he pressed the pad of his thumb roughly against your clit through your soaked undergarments, he swallowed your shaky moans with a nefarious kiss. 

“I have to have you,” Sebastian murmured as his hands came up to remove your blouse, exerting a smidge more self-control than he did with your skirt so he didn’t render your uniform unusable afterwards. There was still the matter of school technically being in session, but after watching Leander put his hands on you, Sebastian was feeling especially possessive, and seeing you lay the brute out like it was nothing made his thirst for you seem borderline unquenchable. He asked hurriedly, “Merlin’s balls, let me eat you out– please?” 

You shivered as he undid the last button on your shirt and slipped the material over your shoulders, tossing it to the stone floor alongside the rest of your clothes. Having long since given up on wearing your bras after Sebastian ripped the straps of your last two, you were completely bare– an open invitation for him to begin kneading your breasts and pinching your nipples hard enough to make you arch into his touch.

He took full advantage of your close proximity and latched his lips over your thundering pulse, sinking his teeth into the skin to work a mark there, and you nodded shamelessly when you felt his fingers slip beneath your underwear. 

“O-Okay. Alright– fine, but take this off,” your hands tugged at the collar of his shirt, ardently conveying that if you were going to let him satiate himself, the least he could do was let you look at him.

Sebastian was obliging you in a heartbeat, pulling away from your spread legs to wriggle his tie loose. It hung messily around his neck– just enough for him to swiftly begin undoing his button up– and the entire time he worked to shed the clothing, his dark, penetrating gaze never left your flushed body. Once the front of his shirt fell open and he’d discarded it, you were met with the tantalizing sight of Sebastian’s toned, freckled chest. The mouth watering trail of hair running below his navel paved a path to the tenting fabric of his trousers, and as soon as Sebastian caught you staring, his brown eyes were darkening impossibly further. 

Prowling forward with feline grace, Sebastian smirked as he lifted his tie off of his shoulders to drape over your head. He didn’t bother tightening it, instead letting it hang in a disheveled heap between your breasts, and the sight did more for him than he cared to admit, his cock straining uncomfortably in his trousers. But right now wasn’t about him– not really– it was about you, and Sebastian’s reverent need to please you. 

“Hold that for me,” he purred down at you before he was dropping to his knees in front of you. 

A brilliant flush swept up your torso as his warm, broad hands came to finally slip your drenched panties away from your aching heat, gliding the material down your outstretched legs without tearing his eyes away from you. Goosebumps broke out all over your skin when the chill of the Undercroft passed over you, and your breath caught in your throat when he eagerly licked his lips and sidled up to the edge of the couch. 

Sebastian looped his arms under your thighs, tugging you closer to him so that your ass dangled precariously off the cushions, causing you to shiver under his unyielding stare. He nudged your legs up onto his shoulders, casting a mischievous look your way before he was nuzzling his face into the sensitive skin of your legs, and the adoring kisses he peppered up the apex of your thighs had your stomach tensing in anticipation. 

“Do you think we could try sparring one day?” Sebastian asked randomly, teasing his fingers closer to your dripping folds before pulling them away entirely. The dejected sigh that slipped from your lips made him chuckle darkly, and you narrowed your eyes at him as his question finally processed. 

“Sparring? What the hell for?” 

He shrugged, jostling your raised legs as his fingers dug firmly into your hips for a modicum of restraint. “I think I’d enjoy getting thrown around by you. Do you think you could?” 

Merlin– he had officially lost his mind. “Maybe? I wouldn’t want to hurt you, though.” 

Something wild sparked behind his irises then, and he began placing lingering kisses in the hollow of your leg. “I would love it if you did,” another soft press of his lips, this time right beside your aching center. “Seriously, when we do, promise me you won’t hold back.”

“You’re actually insane,” you wheezed out as his next kiss fell directly against your clit, and your nails dug fitfully into the padding of the lounge at the featherlight feeling.  

“Only for you, darling.” Sebastian’s grip on your hips tightened as he mercifully sealed his mouth over your cunt, and your head kicked back against the sofa with an audible whack as your shrill voice suddenly echoed off the walls of the cavernous room. Your next breath was stolen from you as you felt Sebastian’s tongue circle over your clit, pressing and dragging the muscle down your heat to lap up as much of you as you could– and you swore you’d never been so wet in your fucking life. 

By some miracle, you didn’t pass out from the overwhelming bliss, but you sure as hell saw stars dancing in the corners of your vision when Sebastian tongued at your tight entrance. The sordid sounds coming from the brunet between your legs was enough to have you clenching your thighs on either side of his head, and the blatantly aroused groan it pulled from his throat reverberated against you perfectly. 

“Fuck, Sebastian,” you whimpered, snapping your hands up from the seat to fist in his curly, brown locs, and when you pulled him against you harder, he moaned at the sensation of your nails scraping against his scalp. He switched tactics then, shaking his head from side to side softly to rub his lips sinfully over your bundle of nerves. The friction was dizzying, and you brazenly bucked your hips against his chin to chase your steadily mounting pleasure. “Merlin–” 

Sebastian was utterly transfixed by you. Through hooded eyes, he watched rapaciously as you crumbled above him; your chest rose and fell with labored breaths, and the ever darkening flush that decorated your skin made the green of his tie around your neck stand out even more, acting like a proprietary flag that claimed you as his. You cracked open your eyes to stare down at him, and your stomach flipped at his unbridled, lust-filled gaze boring into you. 

Sitting forward more, Sebastian wound one of his arms over the angular curve of your hip bones, simultaneously pressing you harder into him while preventing you from shifting around. He mouthed sloppily against you, and you were left to balance your leg over his shoulder when he dropped his other hand to begin teasing at your soaked hole. He pressed the tip of his finger in slowly before withdrawing it completely, and he repeated the same motion a few more times until you were on the verge of tearing a fistfull of his hair out. 

A keening sound ripped from your chest when he removed the digit slower than before, and you could feel Sebastian smirk against you. “S-Stop teasing,” you stuttered, your voice strained and airy.

Sebastian pulled away with a conniving chuckle, and the sight of your slick coating the entirety of his lower face damn near killed you on the spot. “I’m trying to take my time here– you taste so fucking sweet.” 

His finger was back, sliding into you once again– only this time he spared you further torment by burying the appendage inside of you to the knuckle and curling it deliciously upwards. You gasped, arching off the back of the lounge in some vain attempt to feel more of him, but his strength pressing into your hips held you firmly in place, and a legitimate whine tumbled from your swollen lips. 

He set an achingly slow pace, focusing more on wiggling his finger inside of you before pulling it back to thrust in again, and your throaty groan was cut short when Sebastian’s mouth reappeared on your cunt. He lapped at you furiously, working your brain into a tizzy with the rapid flicks of his tongue against your clit, and the cord in your gut was wrought tight as your climax roared to life in the far reaches of your mind. The wanton moans that slipped from Sebastian were electrifying, and the intensity of his ministrations increased when he added a second finger to the mix. Any pain or discomfort was nonexistent; all you could focus on was the sheer exhilaration his efforts brought you, and your hands tightened in his hair to silently warn him that you were close. 

Leaning sideways for a better angle, Sebastian rolled his head against your inner thigh to peer up at you. Once your glazed over eyes landed on him, he let his mouth hang open in an obscene manner to lewdly flick his tongue over your nub at the same time he stroked your inner walls, and that was as much as you could take before you were crying out for Sebastian loud. Your orgasm hit you with the force of a train, stealing your breath and making your muscles tense so hard that your boyfriend’s face was effectively crushed between your trembling legs. 

Sebastian took everything that you inflicted upon him in stride; the stinging drag of your nails through his hair, as well as the suffocating squeeze of your thighs on either side of his head. He relished in it– and he positively lived for how he could make you fall apart in such a way. His cock concurred with his thoughts, twitching enthusiastically against the confines of his trousers. 

The freckled, Adonis incarnate before you rose to his full height after you had the good grace to release him from the stifling confines of your legs, groaning softly when his fingers slipped out of you. Sebastian regarded you with a predatory look that promised more, and you swallowed thickly as you watched his hands languidly work to undo the catch of his pants.

Worrying his bottom lip between his teeth, Sebastian’s brows pinched together with blatant need as he scanned your prone form against the sofa. “Fuck, do you have any idea what you do to me?” His imposing stature over you– shirtless and flushed, with his chest rising and falling from the strained breaths he pulled into his lungs– it had your heart hammering wildly against your sternum. You shook your head. “Then I’ll show you,” he vowed, and the timbre to his voice seemed to reignite the fire burning in your veins. 

Working quickly, Sebastian shoved his trousers down to his thighs, pulling himself out of his briefs with a needy groan. He gave himself a few testing pumps, tipping his head back slightly when his fist squeezed around the bright red tip, and then he was zeroing in on you like you were the only thing in the room he cared to pay attention to. You were still quivering in your spot on the lounge when Sebastian stepped forward, hauling you upright by the tie around your bare neck to spin you around so you were kneeling on the cushions with your front pressed into the backrest of the couch. 

It took everything in you not to sink back down on your wobbly legs, but then you felt Sebastian’s hands running down your back towards the shapely curve of your ass, and he squeezed at the skin there greedily before lining himself up with your spit-slick cunt. Far too eager to feel his cock inside of you, you watched over your shoulder as Sebastian gingerly pressed into you with a low, raspy moan, and your fingers dug into the backrest so hard, your knuckles blanched white. 

Despite his urgency, Sebastian took his time rocking his hips into you, drinking in your sweet little sounds as he filled you up and slid home. “Fuck,” he breathed, leaning forward to rest his head between your shoulder blades as he buried himself to the hilt. His hands moved from your ass to your waist, holding you still with bruising strength as he got used to the sensation of your hypersensitive walls contracting around him. Your breaths were coming out fast and shallow, completely overwhelmed by the sheer size of him compared to his fingers. Having already come, you were like putty in Sebastian’s hands as he ground his cock into you firmly, and you felt him twitch inside you when your head fell forward against the upholstery of the seat with a gasp. “Fuck– you’re so wet still– feels so fucking perfect.” 

When Sebastian pulled back to torturously thrust into you slowly, your hips rocked in tandem against him, and he redirected his eyes up from where the two of you were connected so he could drink in the expression on your face. Your lips were parted around a choked moan as he moved inside of you, those beautiful, luminescent eyes of yours sparkling with rampant affection and arousal, and his tie swayed around your neck in sync with his movements.

Sebastian hunched forward, lifting one of his hands to rake through your disheveled hair and pull your head back towards his shoulder, and you cried out suddenly before the sound transformed into a filthy moan that only served to spur Sebastian forward faster. His hold on you was unrelenting, effectively bending you backwards against his sweaty chest as he increased his pace and began spearing his cock into you with brutal efficiency. 

It didn’t take long for him to start hitting the deepest parts of you, the thick head of his shaft curving up to graze deliciously over your sweet spot with every rough thrust. Your eyes rolled back in your skull, shameless noises spilling from your lips as Sebastian folded you backwards onto his cock to satiate himself. That familiar feeling blossomed low in your gut, and one of your hands flew back to dig your nails into the bare skin of Sebastian’s thigh behind you. 

“Fuck, fuck, Sebastian–” your warbled voice was like music to his ears, pulling the corners of his mouth up into a devilish smile. His next thrust was particularly forceful, and the incriminating sound of skin slapping against skin filled the Undercroft, seemingly harmonizing with the cacophony of noises that the two of you created together. “Merlin–” 

Sebastian growled, releasing your hair to trail his hand across your front and curl around your throat. He tightened his hold there, squeezing just enough so that your walls clenched around his cock as he upped his tempo. You were completely enveloped by him, held fast to his damp chest as he ruthlessly pounded into you, and the lack of oxygen to your brain numbed everything else as your second orgasm loomed threateningly overhead. 

Overcome with telltale urgency, Sebastian chased his own pleasure desperately, bucking his cock deep into your clenching heat, wringing choked gasps and stuttered cries of his name from your open mouth, and he was fucking dizzy from how good it felt to be pressed against you, holding you tight in his arms. Sebastian tugged you closer to him to latch his lips over the sweaty skin below your ear, biting and sucking a mark there as he propelled his hips upwards inside of you. 

There really wasn’t anything you could do to stop yourself from frantically rutting back in search of that building euphoria. You rode back onto Sebastian with as much give as you were allowed, your eyes squeezed shut from the pleasure and your thighs shaking from how good Sebastian was fucking you, filling you up deep and hard and fast, just how you liked it. The way he slammed you back down onto his rough thrusts by your throat only added fuel to the fire, leaving you a sloppy, gasping, pleading mess in his arms. 

Sebastian released his ironclad grip around your waist to snake his hand lower to your sensitive clit, and your head fell back against his shoulder as he started rubbing firm circles over the overstimulated nub. Your voice strained against his uncompromising hold on your throat, “Fuck– Sebastian, please–” 

“Come, darling, come on my cock. Let me hear your pretty noises, I’m so close,” he muttered the command against the shell of your ear, railing his cock into you so fast and so harshly, you had no choice but to oblige him. 

Sebastian watched as you crumbled against him for the second time, utterly in love with the way your spine rounded as you sank into him, every part of your body trembling. Your walls tightened impossibly further around him, causing him to gasp into the crook of your neck, and Sebastian slammed his cock into your incredible cunt— nearly mindless from how you shook against him— and he fucked you clean through your orgasm until your sounds and body yanked him right over the edge with you. His dark eyes rolled shut, growling your name through his clenched teeth as his pace faltered before he was burying himself deep in you with a heady gasp. 

The feeling of Sebastian emptying inside of you rendered you boneless, leaving your boyfriend with the task of keeping you upright as he ground his hips against your ass, milking himself dry with broken whimpers before halting his movements entirely. His hold around your throat loosened, and the rush of blood returning to your brain was akin to pure bliss alongside the remnants of your climax. 

“Fucking hell,” he groaned after a few heated seconds, relaxing his grip on you so that he could slide himself out before gingerly lowering the two of you down onto the cushions together. Your hands slipped from the back of the couch and fell into your lap as Sebastian maneuvered you into a sitting position, your body too limp to even bother moving yourself. “Are you okay?” 

You gave him a nonplussed blink as you willed your brain to function properly again, and then you nodded shakily. “Shit, yeah. I had no idea your bloodlust would turn you into such a lunatic, though,” you muttered, and Sebastian’s bellowing laugh roused you further from your post-coital state. 

“It’s not bloodlust, darling. It’s you,” he countered easily, a smug smile playing on his freckled lips. He tucked his softening cock back into his briefs and tugged his pants back up over his hips before moving away from you to retrieve the scattered pieces of your uniform. When he reappeared with the ball of clothing, you took it graciously, staying seated on the couch as you worked your underwear up your unsteady legs. “I was serious about the sparring thing, too. I think it would be fun watching you let loose.” 

You shot him a hesitant look, not particularly keen on his eagerness to get bloodied up at your hands, but his excitement at the thought was palpable, and you found yourself relenting to his ludicrous idea with a sigh after a few beats of silence. “Fine,” you conceded. “But only once. I don’t care how horny it makes you– I don’t like the thought of hurting you, no matter how easy it is to fix broken bones here.” 

He had bent down to snatch his button up off the floor, but paused on his way up to glance at you with a pleased expression on his face. The shirt was momentarily forgotten as Sebastian fell to his knees once again, only this time it was to cradle your face in his warm hands and pull you in for a toe curling kiss. His thumbs traced along your cheekbones as his tongue delved deep in your mouth, and you sighed contentedly. The gentleness that always followed these heated moments between the two of you was, without a doubt, one of your favorite things. 

Sebastian broke away to pepper a quick succession of lighter kisses all over your face, and you couldn’t help but laugh softly at his reverence. “Hell yes, whatever you want. I’ll do it wearing a damn ball gown if that’s what it takes.” 

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re barking mad?” 

He smirked, far too pleased to be hearing you say so. “From time to time, yes. Don’t lie, you love it.” 

Your eyes twinkled with amusement, and fighting your smile proved to be easier said than done. “I love you. Your crazy ideas, however, I take with a grain of salt.” 

From there, he stood fully to throw his shirt over his shoulders, and you mirrored his actions, redressing yourself as quickly as your shaky legs would allow. Once finished, you slipped Sebastian’s tie off of your neck, draping it over his shoulders with a coy smile, and you felt his arm coil around your waist to tug you flush against his front, stealing your lips in another steamy, doting kiss. You returned the gesture with equal fervor, rising to your tip-toes to trail your hands up into his hair to scratch shiver-inducing stripes down the nape of his neck. 

The two of you stayed like that for what seemed like an eternity before the screeching gears of the metal gate drew your attention, and you pulled apart at the same time Ominis strode into the Undercroft. His face was contorted in concentration, his wand sweeping across the room until he seemed to sense that yes, his two best friends had indeed abandoned him in the Great Hall to disappear into their shared space. 

“Where the hell have you two been?” He asked, not even bothering to confirm that you were truly there. His outstretched wand pointed towards you both as he made his way to the back of the room. “I thought we were meeting for lunch, I’ve been entertaining idle gossip for the better part of a half hour. What is it that I keep hearing about Leander getting punched in the face?” 

At that, you stepped away from Sebastian, adjusting your skirt slightly before bashfully rubbing the back of your neck. “Ah, yeah. That was me,” you confessed. “Word travels fast. What exactly is being said?” 

Ominis cocked a brow at you as he came to halt a few feet away, a strange look passing over his features as his wand pulsed in your direction. “Rumor has it you broke his nose. Please tell me this isn’t going to become a regular occurrence– I can hardly keep up with Sebastian coming to blows with students as it is.” 

“It won’t, don’t worry. I doubt he’ll even come around me anymore after this.” 

Sebastian snickered under his breath, eyeing you with a proud look that reminded you of your recent escapades, and you blushed under his knowing stare. “If Leander knows what’s good for him, he won’t so much as glance in your direction for the rest of the year. But on that note, I’m famished. Anyone up for food?” 

“I’ve been ‘up for food’ for thirty minutes,” Ominis muttered as he turned on his heel to head for the gate. The three of you fell into step alongside one another, Sebastian’s hand brushing against yours as you walked towards the exit, but then Ominis was pausing mid step, tilting his head up to… sniff the air? How odd. “Merlin’s beard, it smells like sex in here.” 

You snatched your hand away from Sebastian’s to slap your palms over your eyes in embarrassment, every ounce of blood in your body rushing to your head and heating your cheeks as you willed the floor to open up underfoot and swallow you whole. Your boyfriend, however, only laughed. 

“We had to work up an appetite before finding you,” Sebastian mused, unashamed at having been caught by the blond man. “Sorry, Ominis. I’ll send an owl next time.” 

“Please stop fucking in the Undercroft. I’m too scared to sit down here anymore– I can’t tell whether I’m avoiding your cum stains or not.” 

“You’ll want to steer clear of the lounge for the foreseeable future, then.” Sebastian fired back instantly, not a lick of chagrin to be detected in his voice. “That’s a mess you’ll want to avoid.” 

“Please stop talking,” you grit through your teeth, and the coquettish expression on the brunet’s face warranted a sharp look from you. “Or I can’t promise I won’t punch you in the face next.” 

“Didn’t we just establish that I want you to go that route? Don’t threaten me with a good time.” 

Ominis threw his hands up in utter exasperation, shaking his head in disbelief at Sebastian’s gall before damn near sprinting to leave the Undercroft, and the two of you were forced to skip after him as he ascended the staircase to head for the Great Hall. Even after sitting down and piling food on his plate, Sebastian continued to oggle you from his seat across the table. Every so often you would feel his foot nudge your calf, trailing the appendage up your leg to play with the hem of your skirt. 

Despite your earlier mortification, he did a stellar job of brightening your mood, and when Ominis groused over his mug that the two of you should just get fucking married already, Sebastian looked at you wonderstruck, and he seemed to seriously consider it. 

[cursedonyx]

Ominis Leaves You a Voicemail

Last night I bolted upright from a dead sleep with an ✨idea✨

I couldn’t help but create it, and share with you all. Enjoy the filth you gorgeous little horndogs.

You’ve been away from home on a job for a whole week, and poor Ominis is missing you terribly. One evening after a little dutch courage, he’s feeling a little frisky and decides to call you, but only gets your voicemail. Not a man to be deterred, he leaves you a particularly spicy message.

Warnings – MDNI | Smut | Ominis leaves you a needy voicemail while ‘entertaining’ himself | sloppy noises | Alcohol | Drunk Ominis | Wear headphones for fucks sake | All characters aged up 21+

✨BONUS MORNING AFTER MESSAGE✨

[witchyafterdark]

—Sebastian Sallow Headcanons; pt. 2

• The Pros and Cons of being with him •

These are just some of the headcanons that might manifest if you ever think about dating this one of a kind man, Sebastian Sallow. Once again, these are my personal thoughts, so take them with a grain of salt. None of these screenshots belong to me. All credits to their respective creators and owners! 💚

・❥・ PROS

Being with Sebastian is like a breath of fresh air every single day.

Even in the most mundane of moments, he won't be short of new things and experiences to enjoy with you. He makes sure that you're always happy in his presence that every time you have to spend some time apart, you can't wait to see and be with him again.

Your safety and security is top-priority to him, in more ways than one.

He has no qualms in joining you break the curfew to go adventuring in the highlands. Whenever he gets the chance, he slips a vial (or five) of Wiggenweld Potions into your robes in case you go fighting spiders, trolls, and Ashwinders without him. And when you come back to the castle with scratches or marks on you, best believe he will fuss over you regardless if you're in public.

But it's the little things that really matter to him.

Whenever you spend the night in his dorm, he ensures you're comfortable in his bed; grabbing extra pillows, giving you an extra blanket so you don't end up struggling with him over it, and casting a warming charm over the foot of the bed to keep your feet cozy.

He might even start to buy ribbons or hair ties for when you need them but don't have any on you at the moment. You're thirsty? He has another water canteen for you. Your seasonal allergies bothering you? He's got another set of handkerchiefs just for you. Your neck hurts from being hunched over while reading? He won't even hesitate to massage the back of your neck in soothing motions. You missed breakfast? Don't worry, he pocketed and kept warm a bunch of fresh muffins just for you.

When you get sick, you can only imagine the things he would do to nurse you back to health.

Sebastian is actually an expert in time management. It doesn't matter if he has classes in fifteen-minutes. He would have asked the house elves to prepare you a hearty bowl of vegetable soup, personally brought it to your bed in the Hospital Wing, and he would truly spoon feed you without hesitation. He would also do all your missed homework for you, and duplicate all his notes for you to go through once you're well. And he will see to it that you're nursed back to health by hook or by crook. He will sneak up to the Hospital Wing in the middle of the night just to check if you're sleeping well, or if you're awake and you need anything from him. He's very, very caring.

Of course, not everyone is a fan of the Hero of Hogwarts.

So, when he hears some students spreading nasty rumors about you, or badmouthing you, he will see to it that this kind of defamation ends within the span of a day. He will not allow anyone to talk bad about you, and would protect your reputation to the best of his abilities; even if he has to... dirty his hands a lot.

You will always feel loved by him, in all the sense of the word.

Even though he would be mindful of his public displays of affection—he actually likes to keep more intimate moments with you a bit more private and "for his eyes only"—he doesn't shy away from holding your hand in public. One of the simple things he enjoys doing is to guide you around with his hand on the small of your back, always keeping physical contact with you. Sweet kisses, hugs, comforting words, unexpected and unprompted gifts, catching him staring at you lovingly (and him denying this cutely), and being at your beck and call are just some of the things he loves to give you.

Beyond the surface, he is actually very in-tune with you and how you fair in the relationship.

Sebastian can perfectly read a person within a given time period. He managed to become Ominis' best friend, who is quite aloof and very guarded. This is because Sebastian has a way of appealing to people in a genuine way. This quality of his definitely extends to your relationship with him. He already senses when you had a bad morning, or when you're not in the mood for anything. He also doesn't push you to explain yourself if you don't want to. He will, however, do whatever to make you feel seen and heard in the moment, and won't invalidate your feelings... as long as you see eye to eye.

→ His romantic and compassionate gestures would grow even further once you've both graduated from Hogwarts, and are free to explore the full extent of your relationship.

╭━━━━━∙⋆⋅⋆∙━━━━━╮

・❥・ CONS

He is aware of the weight of his baggage in life, and is quite stubborn about it.

(This one's not so much of a disadvantage but just something to keep an eye on).

Dealing with a lot of traumatic events and death of family members since childhood is bound to change anybody, and Sebastian is no exception. And since things just kept piling up on top of the other as he grows older, he is surprisingly stubborn and immovable about the things that has happened to him. The devastation of Anne's curse and the subsequent death of Solomon had left an indelible mark on his own perception of himself.

If there's one thing about him that you should know, it is that he refuses to be treated as a helpless victim of circumstances. Even if you're coming from a place of good intentions and wanting to help him overcome his trauma, he doesn't like to be helped unless he asks for it. And more often than not, he prefers to bury his emotional torment under a cool and controlled façade.

Talking about wanting to help him heal from his past is one way to push him into becoming emotionally detached from you. He'd rather swallow all the hurt than trying to heal from them; because dealing with them, no matter how beneficial it can be for him, will make him face his perceived weaknesses and supposed failures in life. And if you really push him to talk to you about these things, he will end up projecting all that trauma onto you and the relationship to "give you a taste" of what you're asking for.

With that said, he won't allow you to sway him from things he set his mind into—even if those things are deadly for him and the people around him.

To understand Sebastian, you only need to observe why he does the things he do. He doesn't do things without a purpose, without reason. But when his reasoning becomes severely clouded by his need to succeed, no amount of effort to persuade him otherwise will help your cause. In his mind, you're either with him, or against him. This laser-sharp focus and tunnel-vision can be viewed in a positive light. But too much of something can lead to the worst outcomes. And in his oldest friend's words, "he doesn't know when to stop." He doesn't go to sleep when he's tired, he goes to sleep when he's done. And while that is an attractive quality to a certain point, he doesn't know his limitations. That means he won't stop unless he gets what he sought out to achieve, even with the risk of life and limb.

In the same vein, he will do absolutely anything to get what he wants; and won't take no for an answer.

The ends justify the means for Sebastian. While he can be the type to think before he acts, what usually happens is that he thinks at the same time he acts. And if you ruminate about it, that kind of behavior can be quite alarming due to the notion that he thought about the repercussions or the moral standing of a certain action, yet still acting upon it. He knows what he's doing is wrong but have no problem justifying what he does without hesitation. In a life or death situation, this kind of attitude is beneficial because he can think quick on his feet. But you're not faced with life-threatening situations every single day. This makes you wonder... what kind of moral standards does he have on a regular basis? And what would happen to you if you get in the way of his plans?

On top of it, since he knows how to appeal to people's feelings, he doesn't hesitate to use that to his advantage very well.

Simply put, he knows which buttons to push in order to get you in his side. He will try to make you see that he's doing very questionable—or even downright heinous—things for the greater good. And he can do it in the most genuine, convincing way. He knows that you're attached to him, and he will monopolize on it for the other reason that he doesn't want to go against the person he loves.

But if you try to stand up against him, and try to persuade him into dropping what he's doing, his demeanor will immediately change. He will perceive your lack of cooperation as an act of betrayal, and will resort to other methods of manipulation.

And while he is also hurting from your direct disapproval, Sebastian can find ways to slowly but surely twist the nature of your relationship with him to get you to become co-dependent upon him to break down your defenses. This kind of tactic can eventually degrade the quality of your bond with him, and by extension, the way you behave with him over time.

If you decided to put your feet down and stand your ground against his decisions, best believe you're dead to him.

Sebastian can grieve the loss of his relationship with you, his beloved, but he won't ever let it show in public. It's as if he doesn't know you to begin with. In his mind, if you can betray him like that, then he shouldn't associate with you at all. No matter how painful it is to swallow the bitter pill of his new reality, he'll stiffen that upper lip and act as if it doesn't bother him at all. He is very, very stubborn.

(And yes, this is quite reflective of how he is with us post-credits because let's face it, him not speaking to us anymore was like a slap to the face. Even Duncan talks to us!)

╭━━━━━∙⋆⋅⋆∙━━━━━╮

So, do the pros outweigh the cons for you?

[im-trying-my-best-yall]

"Freds my favorite i kinda forget about George" "Freds the better twin he has more personality" "George is kinda ugly i hate his nose-"

KEEP MY HUSBANDS NAME OUT YOUR MOTHERFUCKIN MOUTH

HES BEAUTIFUL TO ME FUCK OFF

FREDS GREAT BUT GEORGE GETS NO ATTENTION AND IT FRUSTRATES ME TO NO END

I WOULD RIDE THAT LITTLE NOSE BUMP INTO THE SUNSET FUCK YOU

[heartduvet]

slytherin boys see you get flirted with at a party

ⓘ in this scenario, the slytherin boys and u are in the talking stage

— draco malfoy

similar to tom, he would just storm out

asks you about it the next day in an accusing tone

clingy all day after u tell him you didn’t flirt back (his way of apologizing)

weirdly enough, after being scared and never straightforward in the talking stage, he mans up and asks you to be his gf

— blaise zabini

chuckles to himself as he sees you looking bored and repulsed

doesn’t intervene, he knows he has no right since you guys aren’t official yet

if the guy starts being a dick, he will get u out, otherwise will only ask you about it the next day

feels jealous, but this just proves to him that he needs to ask you to be his gf asap

— tom riddler

doesn’t even think about the possibility that the guy coming onto you is against your will

leaves without a word

the guy somehow happens to be paired up with him in dueling practice next monday

he does not hold back

he will not talk to you for a week

— lorenzo berkshire

“did u flirt back? bet you did, huh” in the meanest tone ever

would give u the silent treatment for a small time

you already know he’s gonna be at your dorm room at 2 am after Blaise talked to him and called him a bitch for acting like a one

never apologizes for his behavior, but is more open about u two having something going on between u onward to prevent any future casualties of the sort

— theodore nott

notices you being flirted with and happens to spill a drink on the guy

looks at said guy with 0 remorse, hits him with an “oops” before walking away

leaves you alone since he knows you two aren’t official (yet), he just needed to get u away from that prick. it’s for your sake. you’re welcome.

— mattheo riddle

sees you being flirted with almost immediately since he was staring at you from the other end of the room

walks over to you and puts a hand on your waist, looking at the guy with a ‘fuck off’ look

the guy is pissed off and walks off

he’s also pissed off and u tease him for being jealous

generally just very possessive and always has a hand on your waist, arms, back, thighs, whatever he’s allowed for the rest of the night

ⓘ this is my first tumblr post of the sort so please give me tips on how to make them better or how to make them more like their charcter would be, if i made them ooc. botched english? 1 am and not my first language HA

thank uuu ^^

[mirusuchanne]

⌕Beach and a bikini - Theodore Nott

Warnings: smut, dirty talk, desperation, mention of smoking, fingering under water, unprotected sex, trying to hold in moans while others are watching.

A/N: girlies are thirstier in the summer, so I'm giving you the smuttiest smut, enjoy!

Summer vacation with lots of fun, with tiny bikinis which barely covered five percent of your body was all fun and games for you. But not for one specific person. He didn't like others seeing the body he just fucked , the body he pleasured in an inhumane way just a couple of days ago. You were avoiding him, since you didn't want any bruises on your body with those tiny bikinis on. It would be really embarrassing for you, so you kept away from him and his touches.

Well, he had enough. You were splashing water towards Pansy and giggling, you were both having fun. Lorenzo and Blaise joined you too, hitting you with enormous waves. You jumped back at the sudden mass of water Zabini threw at you. Your hair got all wet, you shot up from water and gasped, sliding your hands down your hair.

It was silent, until Blaise said:

"Well, that was hot"

"Oh, shut the fuck up, I know" you answered as you felt someone's sharp, direct look. It almost burnt your skin. You looked at the shore, just to see Theo dressed in a fancy suit above a beach shirt (typical Italian man) , smoking a cigarette and looking at you with darkened eyes. His jaw was clenched, muscles tense and the eyes spoke the words of danger.

"Join us, Nott!" Lorenzo yelled as he saw him too.

You knew he was desperate, 𝘴𝘰 𝘧𝘶𝘤𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘦. He turned into a villain without you. Cigarette was his second favourite thing: you were his first favorite thing to smoke, more directly- to suck on and to swallow everything from. For him, you were more addicting than nicotine.

With a swift motion, but also painfully slowly, he took the last puff out of his cig and threw it between the rocky sand. Then he took off his shirt, revealing the body of a Greek god, following his trousers- he already had swim shorts on. Well, he knew what he was doing. He decided to join you in the water, and there was no way you could escape him that moment. He started walking towards the water, not even flinching to the dead cold water, not stopping to ease the cold, just moving directly towards you. You gulped from fear and tiny bit of excitement. When the water got deeper, he swam right next to you as you felt his hand slide down on your waist. Right, teasing.

Pansy and the boys went on with playing. You were dead silent.

"Missed me, principessa?" He asked quietly and chuckled. "You thought I was going to sit in the corner like a puppy-" he groaned and squeezed your ass "-and fantasize about fucking you, hmm? You thought I was not going to do anything? Huh?" He squeezed you harder, until you couldn't breath even though his hands were only on your ass and thighs. "Oh, you forgot how to talk now?" His accent got heavier. He was up to something, and you quickly realized that when his fingers went down your panties.

You bit my bottom lip to prevent a whimper escaping your lips. "T-theo" you mumbled. Your mind was gone all blank. He was drugging you with his touch, in the water, in front of everyone. "Please" you whispered and closed your eyes.

"Is something wrong?" Pansy asked. You felt his hot breath on your neck.

"No, I'm alright" you mumbled. "I'm just.. Seasick?"

"You're fucking stupid" Pansy laughed and turned back to the boys, shooting a water at them.

"Looks like you're enjoying all this, huh?" He whispered and softly bit the sensitive area behind your ear. "Getting fingered under the water in such a tiny bikini? Holding in your moans for me? you don't deserve such treatment, principessa, but here I am, making you go crazy for me. My service also works under the water, you know that now"

The harsh and dirty talk in between his tough thursts really made you go crazy. "Ngghhhh~" it was really all you could say, and biting your lip and pinching your eyes shut was all you could do. He adjusted second finger, and quickly, third.

"Oh, I didn't know getting fucked in front of others was one of your sexual fantasies" he whispered again, and you couldn't bear it anymore. Overstimulation suddenly hit you, your stomach curled in a circle and you were suddenly going to explode from all the teasing. He felt that too, he knew you better than you knew yourself. Suddenly, he pulled out and slid his hand out of you bikini underwear. You groaned in disbelief and desperation.

He slowly took his hand out of water and sucked on his fingers softly. Blaise looked at him in confusion, and Theodore added:

"Water is tasty in here" with a dirty little smirk on his face. He looked at you up and down and you frowned in anger, swimming away to leave the water. When you finally escaped the cold water, you realized that you couldn't walk properly. That fucker made you forgot how to walk just with his three fingers.

You furiously entered the changing cabin on the beach. It also had a shower, so you let the water pour on your face and body. You closed your eyes and relaxed, your mind suddenly shifted to what just happened. Suddenly, you heard someone's deep voice:

"Look who forgot to lock the door" shit, you had forgotten it. Or, maybe you did it on purpose so Theodore would join you? You didn't really think of that, you were already making out with him roughly and desperately. He squeezed your ass and removed your bikini, looking at your breasts with admiration. He kissed one of your boob passionately, and gently stroked the other.

"You have no idea how much I've missed you" he said and his words sent vibrations to your skin, going down your spine like a cold air. Water was pouring on both of you, you cought his hair and ran your fingers though it. "Baby, keep going" you moaned as he went down your core and slid his tongue across your folds. You gasped in pleasure.

He started eating you out like a desert. His desire to taste you had grown stronger and stronger, and you could see it too.

"Spread you legs" he demanded and you did so. With a sharp motion, his shaft was already moving back and forth against your cunt, and without you even realizing, he slammed in his full length. You turned into a moaning mess, feeling as your walls tightened around his member. His motions were slow from the start so you could get accustomed to his length, but then he went wild. The sound of your skins clapping went louder and louder, his groans got more and more desperate, and motions faster and faster. That was all you yelled. "𝘍𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳.. 𝘕𝘨𝘩𝘩𝘩~ 𝘧𝘶𝘤𝘬, 𝘧𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳!~"

And he followed your command. He was close, and you were too. Finally, he pulled out and shoot his erection on your ass, rubbing it on your skin.

"Fuck, we should take this to the hotel room before you fully forget how to walk, principessa" you felt his hot chuckle against your skin, and you nodded with loud, exhausted breathing escaping your lips.

"I'll have to wear bigger bikinis now, I probably have lots of brusises" you sighed and took his hand to straighten yourself.

[megwritesriddles]

In the Middle of the Night (In My Dreams!) ༊*·˚

18+ MDNI !!!

Pairing: Tom Riddle x Fem! Reader / You

Summary: Kinktober 2024 Day 21 - Somnophilia. Riddle has to figure out a way to keep Reader happy and covering for his ever increasing duties outside of the castle. What initially starts as a transaction escalates when they're both more willing than he expected, leading them to explore the slightly more forbidden together.

Tags: Somnophilia (consensual), Mildly dubious consent, Fingering, Hand jobs, Oral sex (f and m receiving), Friends with benefits, Denial of feelings, SoftDom!Riddle, HeadGirl!Reader, Manipulation, Faking an illness (chronic fatigue is very real, he's just a lying POS, only briefly mentioned).

READER DISCRETION IS ADVISED!!!!

Word count: 5.1k

Read it on ao3! | Masterlist

Authors note: Okay so despite this poll (sorry), I edited this into a less dark kinktober fic and will then release a much darker (non-con elements) part two after I finally finish kinktober!! This works as a stand alone if you're not into reading that kinda stuff (which I totally understand, ily dw)!! It just felt too dark for kinktober... even tho I literally have non-con as the prompt for day 25.... idk okay!! Hope you like it anyway mwah ( ◕◡◕)っ ♡

PART 2 COMING SOON !! (but works as stand alone)

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

The moment the two of you had been announced as Head Boy and Girl at the start of the year, Riddle knew he had to get on your good side. Not only for the purposes of professional engagements and living in the same quarters but also because there would be a lot he’d need from you. Last year, he had found a flaw in the enchantments around the castle, discovering that apparition in and out of the castle was in fact possible, so long as you did so from the room of requirements. He has started attending to business outside of the castle regularly, rallying supporters in closed-off magical communities, among trolls and elves. He also searches for artefacts and researches dark magic when he finds the time, visiting isolated collections owned by old eccentrics who he is able to charm easily. He’s made himself a busy life outside of Hogwarts which he’s determined to keep up in order for his plans post-graduation to go as smoothly as possible. Which is where you come in. 

He leaves for these expeditions every weekend, but obviously, he’s not actually allowed to leave the castle. He has to ask you to cover for him if anyone asks where he’s gone. He concocts a rubbish story about having chronic fatigue and having to rest all the time he can, and that he can’t possibly be disturbed while he’s resting as he’s taking special potions for sleep. It’s all a lie, playing on your empathy, which he knows you have droves of, something you are widely admired for. He tells you that he’s horribly embarrassed about it and doesn’t want anyone to think he’s incapable of being Head Boy because of it, so asks you to cover for him if anyone asks about him. You give him those big sympathetic eyes and agree, workshopping a litany of excuses with him. He almost feels bad with how seriously you’re taking this, how much you want him to feel okay, even though you’ve never liked him much before. Almost. It won’t happen a lot either way, he’s told his ‘friends’ that he will be out of reach and very sternly told them not to question, so they won’t poke around, and anyone else who needs him won’t need him often. He makes a show of being very tired in the evenings in the common room the first few weeks you live together. Soon after, he drops the charade and you don’t seem to notice the falsification happening right in front of you, continuing to cover for him every now and then when it comes up. You even comment optimistically that he seems more energetic lately, to which he smiles.

“I suppose so, yes, it must be that I can finally get the rest I need, thanks to you,” he says smoothly, proud of himself for taking this as another opportunity to keep you pliable. You seem overjoyed to be helping.

In return, he keeps you sweet. At first, he merely observes you to get an idea of what might keep him on your good side. Then, he starts showing up for you. He brings your favourite pastries from breakfast (you have a bad habit of sleeping in, which sometimes makes him wonder how you got this job, but alas), accompanied by a coffee just how you like it. Complimenting you whenever you try a new hairstyle or dress up nicely on weekends. The first time he’d done it, he’d commented on a trim you’d gotten to your hair over the weekend in Hogsmeade. You were baffled, saying no one had noticed a thing all day. He sensed that you found the fact that he was the only one to notice odd, but he couldn’t help being observant. He told you as much, and you just smiled. He makes sure to do any favours you ask of him, so you can’t throw his refusal back in his face in case you want to stop helping him, he needs something to hold over your head. It’s never much, perhaps helping you with a bit of schoolwork, listening to a speech you’ve prepared for Head duties or just jostling the logs in the fireplace of the common room when the flames die down. He’s surprised you don’t ask for more, considering that he starts asking for a lot from you. 

His schedule outside of Hogwarts gets complicated, requiring him to head out occasionally in the middle of the week. You always cover for him, insisting to professors that he’s ill in bed, even though it’s clear by now that you’ve realised he’s actually missing during these periods. Your enthusiasm over helping him out has dwindled as you get the sense you’re being played, but he treats you well enough that you seem to assume the best intentions. How naive. Having someone so respected by the professors, the head girl herself, lying for him, he knows, is the only reason he’s been getting away with it for this long. He’s ‘sick’ far too often and never seen at the hospital wing, never requesting any medicine or showing any symptoms. He wonders what you think he’s doing when he’s away, doubting you could guess the truth, but you never ask despite your increasingly suspicious looks, which he appreciates. He likes you, you’re discreet, a surprising trait for such a goody-two-shoes as you are. He spends more and more time with you in the common room in his free time, charming you and winning you over, making sure he’s there if you need a favour or a ‘friend’ to talk to. He finds you to be intelligent and likeable, you’re funny, even if he prefers a bit of a darker humour than you have. There are silences as you sit together where you stare at him while he works on whatever schoolwork he deems most important that day, he knows you’re formulating all sorts of theories, your brain turning as you try to make a guess.

“I appreciate you being discreet,” he says simply one night as you sit together, working separately on assignments. The statement is followed by a silence in which he is tempted to look over at you to see your reaction but resists the urge.

“I don’t suppose you’ll ever tell me what you’re up to?” It’s meant to be a question, but it comes out as a statement. You already know he won’t, and he knows it too. No matter how good you’ve proved to be about covering for him, if you knew the true nature of what he was up to, you’d run. Tattle before even letting him explain, which really wouldn’t help either way. He turns to you, extending an arm. 

“Come here,” he nods his head in his direction. You look confused, and he doesn’t blame you for feeling that way, he isn’t affectionate with anyone. He makes a point of never being seen as being soft, which is easy given he isn’t soft for anyone. But he knows the type you are, so sweet and kind, the type that you can be won over with a little affection. There’s no one here to see either of you anyway, he can risk it this once. You slowly scoot into his side and he wraps an arm around your shoulders. He brushes an errant strand of hair from your face and holds you to his side. “I really do appreciate it, I’m always here if you need anything from me,” he whispers. You look up at him and nod. “Good,” he hums. You spend the rest of the night pressed into his side as you do your homework, it’s odd, but he’s warm and solid, and most girls at Hogwarts would kill to be in your position, so you let it be. It becomes a fairly frequent scene, the two of you snuggled up by the fire, especially as the days grow colder and colder. His hands like to wander, brushing places they probably shouldn’t, but you never stop him or say a word, letting your own hands wander a little too. You don’t talk about it, not with him or with anyone else. You know without words that he doesn’t want it to leave the room. It’s just another secret you have to keep for him. 

He starts having the need for more frequent meetings with his little group of in-school followers, the Knights of Walpurgis, as his plans get closer and closer to their time of fruition. The Head Common Room is the perfect place to host, spacious and completely secret, except for from you. He knows he has to sweeten the deal once more to have you leave the common room for long periods in the evening. So one night, while the two of you study together snuggled up, he kisses you. You’re alarmed but immediately kiss back. He knew you would, every girl in the damn school would, but it still feels like an unexpectedly simple triumph. His hand grips your jaw, not allowing you to move away, not that you’re trying to. Your hand gently cups the side of his neck, keeping him close as his tongue carefully breaches your lips, slightly surprised by how willing you are for him. He has a multitude of things he’s considered doing to you, but for tonight, he has to stick with something focused on your pleasure. He doesn’t mind, pleasuring you is an act of domination in its own right. By the end of the night, he has you sat between his legs, your back to his chest as his fingers thrust in and out of you. You squirm and mewl in his ear, your head thrown back on his shoulder, as he holds you securely with an arm around your middle, fucking you on his fingers. He’s high off of the fact he has you completely nude apart from your socks before him, while he’s still fully dressed.

“There we go, darling,” he purrs in your ear, gently pressing his lips to your jaw. “I bet you’ve wanted this for quite a while, haven’t you?” he teases, grinding the heel of his palm against you as his fingers press in and out. You must have, given how quickly you’d let him strip you down, manoeuvre you into the position he wanted, just how soaking wet you’d been from a couple of strategic words of praise. He’d wrongly assumed you’d be a little more prudish, but he was pleasantly surprised otherwise. “I want you to do something for me,” he whispers, slowing his movements a little so you can focus on his words. You whine softly in protest and he smirks. “Tomorrow evening, could you make yourself scarce for… let’s say three hours? Starting from… six thirty?” his fingers caress your inner walls torturously lightly, almost tickling, making you squirm unhappily.

“Where would I go?” you exhale.

“Library? Walk the grounds? Astronomy tower? I don’t mind, darling, as long as you’re not here,” he kisses behind your ear softly. He expects some questions or protests, but none come, only a simple nod. He’s a little surprised how easy things are with you, although it may have a lot to do with how his fingers are currently buried deep in your cunt at present, he concedes to himself. But you’re always easy, always helpful, so willing to give him the benefit of the doubt even though you were more than smart enough to know better. “That’s a lovely girl,” he smiles against your skin. He hesitates, unsure whether to reveal the transactional nature of his kindness toward you, but he feels he must assure you somehow that it will be worthwhile. “I’ll reward you accordingly, I promise. You’ll hurry back to me at nine-thirty, won’t you? I’ll be missing you by then,” he purrs, trying to further pull the wool over your eyes with some flattery. He straightens up to look down at you, your head still resting back on his shoulder. “Won’t you?” he prompts again, kissing your forehead. You nod, giving him a pleading look and bucking your hips helplessly. You want him to keep going, feeling half-insane from his unmoving fingers filling you up.

And that he does, finger-fucking you through two mind-blowing orgasms that night, showering you with ever more ridiculous praises as the night goes on. It’s unclear whether you’re losing your mind to the pleasure and not understanding him, or if he’s just spewing every compliment he can possibly think of. Once you’re thoroughly debauched, he helps you into your bed as your legs are too shaky on their own, laying you down and kissing you goodnight with a slightly stilted tenderness. You watch him in quiet confusion as he retreats from your room, feeling satisfied and yet completely confused. 

It becomes a bit of a routine, whenever he needs you to stay away from the common room, or otherwise go out of your way for him, he pulls you into his lap in the evening and tugs down your underwear, pleasuring you expertly. Soon, it becomes harder to tell, as he begins to get you off every night, whether he’s after something or not. You don’t know if it’s just his efforts to make sure you don’t forget to think of him positively, you’re far from oblivious to the fact you’re being bribed, or if he’s just enjoying it at this point. He stretches out your encounters more and more, especially when you start returning the favour, using your hand on him while he does the same to you. You’re pleasantly surprised how aroused he gets just from fucking you on his fingers, always at least half-hard by the time you can get your hands on him. When he introduces his mouth into the equation, you’re sure he’ll be asking something big of you soon. But he doesn’t, nothing new comes up, other than you also beginning to use your mouth on him. He seems to love it, so you suppose it must have been motivation enough. He likes to take his time, to make you feel helpless and desperate, not seeming to care if it leads him to spend long periods of time kneeling before you, which was something you were certain he would have never been caught doing for anyone.

It’s a nice relationship in Riddle's opinion, he gets off and he gets what he wants from you. You make yourself scarce and Riddle is able to conduct his meetings in peace in a perfect setting. Whether you’re using mouths or hands, it’s always intensely pleasurable. He grows attached to the sight of you on your knees before him, his cock deep in your mouth as you look up at him with those wide innocent eyes. You’re amazing with your mouth, and usually willing to get on your knees whenever he’d like you to. It’s a perfect arrangement in this way. He loves to hold you down and make you scream using nothing but his tongue. Some of his friends say that eating out a woman is demeaning, but he never feels more powerful than when he has you crying and begging. He loves to make you beg, long-forgotten is the fact he’s meant to be doing this just to keep you sweet, just to manipulate you into helping him. He’s lost in it now, and no matter how selfish he gets in bed, you keep covering for him, seeming to misinterpret him as generous rather than intensely power-hungry. It works well for his purposes, so he lets you think of him as a giving lover.

He’s a little surprised that you haven’t asked for any exclusivity or any indication of whether he’s bringing in other girls at the times he asks you to keep away. He’s not, of course, but he doesn’t understand why you don’t care to ask. He tells himself that it doesn’t matter, but deep down it does bother him, every other girl he’d ever been involved with, even briefly, had asked to be his one and only. You’re a sweet girl, the type he assumed would fall in love with him the moment he first got his hands on (and in) you, but you haven’t indicated this in any way. He knows you’re not seeing any other men because he keeps an eye on you whenever he can. Even having gone so far as to cancel a meeting with a tradesman in Diagon Alley to stay back and watch you while you think he’s away. Nothing. You go about your day as normal, come back to the common room and curl up to read your book. Just before bed, you attempt to get yourself off and fail, pouting through your night routine. You can’t do it without him, he notes smugly. He wishes he could come help, but he can’t without revealing his spying. By the time he gets back legitimately, you’re fast asleep. Given all of this, he still doesn’t understand why you’re not asking him for a commitment. It’s not that he wants to commit to you, he doesn’t like the idea of being tied down, even if he currently has no interest or energy to pursue anyone but you, but the fact you haven’t asked drives him nuts. You seem happy to get off with him and go to sleep without asking a single question. He lingers in your doorway, watching your frame rise and fall under your blanket with slow breaths, wondering about you.

He’s surprised when you bring it up. How you’d felt his presence in your doorway while you’d been asleep, despite not being fully awake. He explained that he’d been wanting to help you out (his own evasive phrasing) but that you’d been visibly asleep so he’d left instead. At your expression, he asks you teasingly if you’d have liked him to do it anyway, his teasing smirk only growing when you blush and nod. And so a system was set, he tells you to sleep on the sofa in the common room if you’d like his attention during the night, as he has a habit of waking up in the middle of the night to fetch water. You agree and you proceed together like normal for the next few days, pleasuring each other in the evenings when he isn’t busy. Every night, even on nights he wasn’t actually waking up naturally, he would come into the common room to check for you. For a long time, you’re not there, and he’s a little frustrated with you. Why dangle such a tantalising idea in front of him if you never meant to go through with it? He’d been a perfect gentleman, telling you that you could say no if the idea made you uncomfortable, but at the time, you’d seemed apprehensively excited about it, yet now, nothing. His eyes stay glued on your door as he goes about getting his water each night, wishing he could go in there. He tries his best not to show his disappointment when he spends time with you in the daytime, not wanting to come off as pushy and drive you away. He needed you to like him, staying on your good side was non-negotiable and pushing you on a matter like this was generally frowned upon. About a week and a half later, he trudges from his room to top up his glass and sees a lump under a blanket on the sofa. It’s you.

He immediately slows and lightens his footsteps, not wanting to wake you as it would ruin the fun. He hadn’t had time for you the last four days, between increasing stakes when it came to schoolwork and closing in on a magical artefact outside of it, he’d been gone for everything but class and sleep. He creeps over to you, seeing your peaceful face squished against the velvet throw pillow. You must have missed him, he thinks, since you started your little mutual arrangement you’ve never gone more than two days without each other before, mostly because Riddle found himself quite insatiable. He’d always told himself he was uninterested in matters of the flesh, that he enjoyed indulging but could easily control himself, and that he was only doing what he was with you to manufacture a sense of closeness and keep you in the palm of his hand. Yet, he had to admit that he doesn’t usually go so far for the purposes of manipulation and that he never would have done this in the first place if he hadn’t found you attractive. He was unwilling to sacrifice his own happiness for his manipulation, beyond a bit of necessary flattering drivel. So when he’d allowed himself into this arrangement, even simply under a pretence, he had quickly lost control of it and become ravenous for the sensations you could offer. He watches your parted lips as you breathe softly. Gently, he rolls you onto your back, waiting to see if you wake. You don’t. He slips the plush blanket down your body and exposes you to his eyes. You’re dressed in a sweet feminine nightgown and he finds the look to be sweet on you, fitting. You were a perfect thing to corrupt. Yet, he smirks to himself, you had agreed to this, you were already corrupted, so desperate for him that you wanted him even in your sleep. Surely you did want exclusivity from him, you were just trying to appear laid back to not scare him off. You could be endearingly shy like that at times. Yes, you agreeing to this was surely evidence that you wanted more from him than you had. That you needed him.

He slowly and cautiously shifts you around until he can settle comfortably between your legs. His hands run up and down the soft skin of your thighs, keeping a close eye to see if you stir. He wonders if you’re really such a heavy sleeper, or if you’re merely pretending not to have woken for his benefit. At the moment it doesn’t matter to him, you seem asleep enough, and if you are conscious, you’re hardly objecting. He pushes up the hem of your nightdress and grins at the sight of you already bare for him, with no underwear in sight. Naughty girl, he thinks to himself as his hands skim up and down your inner thighs, leaning forward to press a soft kiss just above the little patch of hair shielding the part of you he wants most. He would love to tease you and draw it out more, but he doesn’t want you to wake before he can explore the more intimate aspects. He carefully lies down, guiding one of your supple thighs over his shoulder, spreading you open for his eager eyes. You’re already a little wet, he wonders if it’s from his teasing now, or perhaps your dreamy anticipation. He knows he can get you wetter easily. He uses two fingers to gently spread you open even more, revealing the sensitive pearl nestled within your folds. He blows lightly on it, making you twitch a little. He grins.

Still trying to let you stay asleep for now, he leans in and very gently touches his tongue to your bundle of nerves. You sigh softly in your sleep but don’t seem to wake. Your dreams are turning sticky-sweet, you begin to feel warm and floaty, but you’re not conscious enough to register this change properly. You squirm slightly and moan as his tongue gently swirls around your clit, not touching to keep you just bubbling below waking. Your breath is hitching softly, and little noises are leaving your throat. He can tell you’ll wake soon unless he stops, but he figures he doesn’t mind. He wants to see your face when you wake up to his head between your legs. Will you be shocked to start with? Or immediately eager and accepting? He was oddly thrilled to discover this. Your hands slide away from where they rested on your stomach, trying to grab something as he starts to lap at you just a little faster, your breath hitching a little more, exhaling shakily. He’s surprised you’re still asleep, he’s tempted to use legilimency on you to discover what you’re dreaming of. Your face is flushed and your lips parted blissfully, so he figures it’s something nice. His tongue slides up and down between your slick folds, the familiar taste of you spreading across his tongue as you become more and more aroused. He gently kneads the skin of your hip, pulling you a little closer to his mouth, trying to coax you awake without startling you too much. Your eyelids flutter, but you remain asleep, whimpering quietly. He focuses the tip of his tongue on your clit, making the stimulation just a little more intense, watching for your reaction intently. Your fingers tangle into the crumpled blanket by your side, curling into the plush material, and he knows you're on the very verge of wakefulness. He smirks, gently suckling your clit into his mouth. 

This rips a loud moan from your chest, which in turn makes your eyes snap open. You try to sit up, blinking blearily, looking a little bewildered, trying to make out shapes in the dim moonlight, to understand why you feel lost in a haze of pleasure. Riddle's hand moves, splaying out on your stomach, pushing you back down and holding you there. Your eyes snap to him, he grins up at you from between your legs, looking unbelievably smug, his eyes glinting in the light of the moon. The sight of him between your legs, the knowledge of what he’d been doing while you’d been sleeping, coaxes another moan from your lips. He eases up a little now you’re awake, going back to gentle teasing licks against your bundle of nerves. Your heart pounds and you breathe rapidly, partially reeling from the sudden awakening, but mostly just feeling amazing. You lie back against the sofa, trying your best to get your bearings while he continues smothering you with unrelenting bliss. He pulls back for a moment, though he instantly replaces his mouth with his fingers, not giving you a moment to think. 

“Naughty girl, sleeping without underwear to give me access,” he purrs, his voice rumbling in a self-satisfied manner. You giggle sleepily. You had done that, hadn’t you? He smiles up at you. “Was it a nice awakening, my darling?” he murmurs smoothly, leaning back in to continue his dedicated licks. You whimper softly, your hips twitching before he holds you solidly in place, tutting against your sensitive skin.

“The best awakening, so unbelievably arousing,” you whisper, your voice hoarse, watching him work his magic between your legs. He hums against you. He knows this of course, this was quite possibly the wettest he’d ever had you, only increasing since you’d woken up and become conscious of what he was doing. Your hands slide into his short curls as he works, usually, he might complain about this, but you’re still a little sleepy, and he decides to let it go. You sigh pleasurably, your hooded eyes locked on him. His eyes look up to meet yours as he begins to suckle on your clit once more. Intense pleasure floods over you, your head lolling back, your hands tightening slightly in his hair. You let out a string of desperate moans, moans he’s become intimately familiar with over the past few weeks. You’re close and he intends to get you there, to show you how much you need him, to remind you that you can no longer achieve this alone, if you ever could. He doubles down on his actions, gripping your hip a little tighter to keep you firmly in place. “Oh… Tom!” you plead, trying to grind your centre up into his face. You could get so desperate sometimes, Riddle tuts to himself. “Please,” you beg, anticipating his desire to tease you and hoping to get ahead of it. You need this, badly, he hasn’t been around to help you for days, and the scenario was driving you mad with lust. He’s uncharacteristically gracious, not relenting, continuing to lavish you with exquisite sensation, building you up and up. You look down again, and as his eyes meet yours, the coil in your belly snaps. Your whole body tenses, your back arching off of the sofa, a guttural cry escaping you. He holds your hips in place, continuing his assault as you ride out the climax. Tears gather in your eyes and you feel a little humiliated by how intensely this is affecting you. 

After several desperate sobs, you finally collapse back, your hands slipping from his hair. You take several deep breaths as he withdraws from between your legs, sitting up to look down at you. He grabs a tissue from the coffee table, wiping his mouth and discarding it haphazardly. You smile tiredly, and you feel exhausted by your sudden wake-up, but completely heavenly at the same time. You stare at each other for a moment. It’s an oddly domestic moment. You’ve never seen him in his pyjamas before, a matching shirt and trousers, made of silk or some other such soft material, the type that’s popular with the rich Slytherin boys. His hair is a little curly naturally, this you did know from him getting back to the common room on rainy days, but is now slightly messed up from your hands in it. You cover yourself back up, tugging the hem of your nightdress back down as he watches. He looks almost sweet, he has been sweet to you, in his own way. He reaches over and touches your flushed cheek, rubbing it softly with his thumb, unsure whether he’s trying to prove his effect on you, or just wishing to touch you. 

“I’ll have to think of something to ask of you in exchange for doing that,” he jokes a little unnaturally. You laugh honestly. 

“You didn’t already have something?” you tease, moving to sit up. He smiles, enjoying the way you see through him, just enough to prove you’re not stupid, but not enough to compromise any plans. Perhaps that’s why you haven’t asked for exclusivity with him, you’re not stupid like the others, whether you want it or not being irrelevant to the facts. The facts that were feeling more like theories lately.

“No, believe it or not,” he chuckles, pushing your hair behind your shoulder. “But it’ll be easy enough to think of something,” he pulls you onto his lap and kisses you goodnight. “You always find a way of being useful,”

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xoxoxo

[postazkabansiriussupremacy]

Could we get some more headcanons of twin!dad Sirius?👀

Samson and Charlotte are nervous after their sorting ceremony at Hogwarts. Especially Samson.

“I’m going to be disowned.” Samson moans, sitting near the black lake with his sister. It’d been a stressful and exciting first day of classes, but he can’t shake the knots twisting in his stomach.

“Yeah, probably.” Charlotte replies, not looking up from her books.

“I’m not kidding!” He exclaims, becoming increasingly frustrated with his sister’s lack of empathy. If anything she should be the one placed in Slytherin, not him!

“Alright, fine.” She sighs dramatically, glancing at the green patch on his robes before finally looking up to meet his eyes. “Maybe he won’t disown you, but he’ll certainly be ashamed.

“Merlin knows I am.” She adds quickly, silently relishing in her brother’s misery. Charlotte knows their father won’t be that (if at all) upset about their housing placements, but Samson’s over dramatics are very amusing to her while they last.

“You weren’t put into Gryffindor either; he’ll be just as disappointed with you!” Samson argues, pointing a finger and glaring daggers at her. The thought of tossing her books into the water crosses his mind.

“Right, but I’m in Ravenclaw—I’m smart, so it’s not unexpected.” Charlotte counters easily, shrugging. “But you being an evil, selfish Slytherin? Tsk, tsk.”

“Oh, shove off, Charlie.” Samson spits, picking up his things and walking away without giving her a second glance.

Sirius reads his daughter’s letter to him a second and third time. As always, the girl has an interesting way with words, but the topic of the letter drops a lump of guilt in his stomach. Of course he was always proud to be a Gryffindor, but he hadn’t realized somewhere along the way he’d given his children the impression that being placed in any other house was unacceptable.

Sirius sighs, rubbing his eyes with the palms of his hands. While raising his children, he tried his damndest to be the polar opposite of his own parents. He’s playful, encouraging, and supportive of their endeavors and personalities. And yet, in this moment, he’s reminded of his own childhood.

He was happy to be placed in Gryffindor, but he remembers clear as day how nervous terrified he was of his parents’ reactions. And he’s somehow caused his children to have similar feelings to the ones he experienced.

Charlotte being placed in Ravenclaw isn’t much of a surprise. She’s a clever girl, and admittedly, a little bit strange. It suits her well.

However, Samson being a Slytherin isn’t something Sirius expected at all. Sure, there have been times Samson reminded Sirius of Regulus, but not to that extent. Samson was always a very achievement-oriented child, and maybe a bit selfish at times given how often he was willing to throw Charlotte under the bus when getting into trouble, but it’s still a very surprising thing to learn.

“What’s wrong?” You ask, walking into the dining room to find Sirius with his head in his hands. He responds by handing you the letter from Charlotte.

“Hmm.” You hum simply once you’re finished reading. “They’re in separate houses? We’re never going to hear the end of their bickering once quidditch starts.”

Sirius groans, pushing his hair out of his face and ignoring your comment. “They think I’m disappointed in them!

“Did you read what she said?” He exclaims, leaning back in his chair. “Sam thinks I’ll disown him! I thought the very same things about my parents when I was a boy.”

You tsk and place a hand on your husband’s shoulder, knowing his parents are quite the touchy subject for Sirius.

“Then do what your parents didn’t.” You suggest easily, giving him a comforting squeeze. “Write and reassure him—the both of them. You know Charlie; she likes to pretend things don’t bother her as much as they really do.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Sirius sighs, looking up at you through the corner of his eyes. “Obviously.”

Even if Sirius is angry at himself for occasionally screwing up in the same way his own parents had, at least he’s big enough to say sorry.

[snetofed]

Baby, the Riddle effect… is the effect of wanting to be hit, getting pregnant and wanting to ask for forgiveness…

[anto-pops]

Beseech Me - Ominis Gaunt x Female! Reader

Summary: Ominis works too much, and your neediness results in you adamantly refusing to go to bed without him. He comes up with a torturous compromise.

Alternatively summarized as Ominis tormenting you while he works until you can't take it anymore. Hot and frantic on-the-desk antics ensue.

Word Count: 3.3k

Warnings: 18+, aged up characters, explicit sexual content, rough sex on a desk, Dominis if you squint

Full fic can be found here on Ao3 as per usual !

“Please, Ominis,” you whined breathlessly, pinching your eyes shut as you fought the urge to writhe in his lap. “Please move– please.”

The man in question only chuckled under his breath, gliding his fingertips lightly up your spine as he maintained his charmed hold on his dictation quill. He made no move to heed your request, instead opting to keep working as if he weren’t buried balls deep inside of your tight heat. When you had asked him to take a break to spend time with you earlier, this was the absolute last thing you had anticipated. The only reason you’d agreed to entertain his idea was because you had convinced yourself that his restraint wouldn’t last– that he would cave and take you on top of the desk in the way you were desperate for him to– but evidently his self-control was unbreakable. 

You’d never been proven so wrong in your life. He was clearly deriving some sort of sick, twisted pleasure from toying with you in this manner, and it seemed like the more you begged, the slower his quill moved across the parchment. At this rate, you were certain you would be forced to sit on his cock until dawn. 

“You’re hardly in any position to be telling me what to do,” his warm breath ghosted over your neck, the barely there feeling of his lips against your skin making your head spin with arousal. “You were the one who couldn’t wait until I finished my work. Besides, I think this is a perfectly reasonable compromise.” 

Swallowing thickly, you dug your nails into his clothed shoulders in a bid to keep yourself still. The urge to rock down into his lap was insatiable, but you already knew that doing so would set you back irritatingly further. 

“Don’t move, or you won’t get anything from me,” were Ominis’ exact words. You didn’t doubt for a second that he would follow through on that promise if you let your impatience get the best of you. 

You wet your lips and cracked your eyes open to stare at the wall over his shoulder, trying and failing to ignore the pulsing of his shaft within your walls. “It’s just– you’re always working. There’s always more for you to get done, and I get lonely. Please take a break– please fuck me, Ominis, I’m begging you.”

The blond’s fingers skirted down your back once more before moving to squeeze at the curve of your waist, as though he were about to relent. He didn’t, though, and instead opted to press a hot, chaste kiss to your pulse. “I do so like it when you beg…” he mused thoughtfully, dragging his free hand away from the desk to grip the other side of your waist. You couldn’t see his dictation quill, but you heard the scratching of its tip against the parchment slow down some, and your heart skipped a beat as you contemplated whether or not he was finally giving in. “You make it incredibly difficult to focus on important matters, you know that?” 

You opened your mouth to reply, but the sudden feeling of Ominis’ teeth sinking into your neck stole the words from your throat. He bit fervently against your flesh, sucking a proprietary mark into your skin with a throaty hum, and your shaky moan reverberated off the walls and caused your lover’s cock to twitch enthusiastically inside of you. 

Ominis would be lying if he said teasing you this way was easy. On the contrary, when you had walked into his office to ask him to come to bed earlier, he naturally wanted to agree immediately and forgo finishing his report for the Ministry entirely. Denying you the first time was a necessary evil, but then you had come up behind him to wrap your arms around his shoulders, and he’d been made aware of the silk bathrobe you wore with presumably little underneath. That revelation had shattered the majority of his restraint, and he knew then and there that he wouldn’t be able to pay attention to a lick of his work after that. 

You’d been all too eager to take him up on his offer of warming his cock, but little did you know he’d made the suggestion more for himself than for you. Beyond the euphoric sensation of being sheathed in your clenching heat, Ominis relished in working you over the edge with little to no effort– and Merlin, had he succeeded. Your labored breathing in his ear for the past half hour was like the finest of music, and your breasts pressing against his clothed chest was as intoxicating as Firewhiskey. 

In truth, he hadn’t gotten much work done for the duration of time you’d been sitting in his lap; he didn’t need sight to know there was a series of meaningless scribbles in the corners of his report, put there entirely to play up his charade. Everything about you was that distracting, and he huffed out a sigh as his baser urges finally won out against his responsibilities. 

Ominis laved his tongue over the freshly bruised bit of skin, leaving crescent shaped marks on your hips as he held you tighter to ever-so-slightly grind up into you. The feeling had you gasping into the crook of his neck as your forehead fell against his shoulder, clinging to the fabric of his shirt as you allowed the blond to maneuver you however he pleased. 

It took every ounce of willpower in Ominis’ body to keep his voice low and controlled when he murmured, “I suppose you have been well behaved… a little needy, but that’s nothing new.” He pushed your hips back before steadily pulling them forward again, and his eyelids fluttered shut at the sheer bliss the friction offered him. “I’ll fuck you, but you have to wait to come until I say so. Understood?” 

The mere thought of having to wait a second longer for him to move had you nodding brainlessly into the crook of his shoulder, and you ardently wound your arms around his neck to hold him closer as you cautiously rocked against him. At this point, you were willing to promise him anything if it meant getting what you wanted. 

One of his hands left your waist to wind through your hair, and when he tightened his fingers around the strands to pull you away from him, you couldn’t stop the surprised yelp that tumbled from your parted lips. “Use your words, darling, or I’ll leave you waiting for another hour. Do you understand?” 

“Yes,” you gasped breathlessly, forced to address the ceiling since Ominis’ hand in your hair had your head tilted back. “I understand, I won’t come until you tell me to. Please, Ominis, I promise–”

“That’ll do,” he cut you off quickly, releasing his hold against your scalp to grip your hips once more. His lithely muscled arms held you flush to him as he stood straight, and the legs of his chair scraped loudly against the floorboards as he kicked it away to give himself more space. In one swift motion, Ominis deposited you on top of the desk and firmly pushed you down so you were draped on your back across the oak surface, his cock still inside you. His clever fingers set to undo the buttons of his shirt as the hand against your sternum trailed lower to tease around your wet folds, and a keening sound resonated from deep in your chest as he grazed his thumb over your sensitive clit. 

Much like his shallow grinding earlier, it wasn’t enough. Your voice was airy when you asked, “C-Can I touch myself?” 

His hand stilled momentarily before retreating, and he nodded down at you with a coy smirk on his face. “You’re a good girl for asking, so yes. Remember your promise though.” 

Your hand flew off the table to rub tight circles against the hyper-sensitive nub, and the relief that washed over you then was tantamount to perfection. It was the stimulation you’d been after since straddling Ominis earlier, and your eyes jumped up to watch as the blond shrugged his shirt off his shoulders and dropped the attire unceremoniously to the floor. His eyes closed momentarily when the attention you bestowed upon yourself caused your walls to tighten around his cock, and a shameless moan ripped from his throat at the same time he leaned forward to brace his arms on either side of you. 

“Fuck– you’re greedy for it, aren’t you?” 

The clipped edge to Ominis’ voice betrayed just how much he wanted this too, and your breathy laugh filtered up to him as you teased, “Am I to believe you’re not?” 

Those milky blue eyes of his narrowed as he processed your remark, and your mouth dried up when his expression shifted into something far more domineering than before. He lifted one of his hands to run the appendage up your stomach, then your chest, before eventually settling against your throat, and your eyes widened when he squeezed gently to convey his feelings on the snide comment. 

“Are you sassing me right now? Bold words from the woman who beseeched me to take her on the desk. Just for that,” he started to say, reaching between the two of you to grasp the hand you’d been using on yourself, “no more of this. You’re mine to play with now, darling.”

In a flash, Ominis pinned your hand against the rough wood above your head, holding you firmly in place by the throat with the other. You whimpered pitifully, opening your mouth to stutter out a string of apologies before he forbade you from coming entirely, but a hurried thrust of his hips interrupted your efforts. The force in the action had your shoulder blades scraping deliciously against the desk, and you moaned wantonly as Ominis worked to set a brutal pace. 

He spread his legs to accommodate his low hanging trousers before pounding himself roughly into your tight cunt. “Calling me greedy when you’re the one under me getting fucked senseless,” he growled with a gruff tone, squeezing around your windpipe to pull you harder onto his cock as he plunged in and out of you without mercy. “You couldn’t wait– didn’t want to wait. You’re as demanding and needy as they come.” 

His head tipped back and sent strands of his blond hair across his forehead as he bucked desperately into your overwhelmingly slick walls, and after being sheathed in your tight heat for so long without moving, he felt himself growing closer to his release as you clenched tellingly around him. Ominis abandoned his hold on your throat as he bent over you, raking his nails down your chest to pinch one of your nipples into a stiff peak, and your back arched off the desk for all of two seconds before the imposing man jerked your head to the side by your hair to sink his teeth into your shoulder. 

“O-Ominis, fuck–” you cried out abruptly, the combined feeling of his bite and the slap of his hips against your ass enough to make you see stars. The fire that ignited in your blood had you flushing from head to toe as you frantically sought more stimulation from him, but the whispers of your earlier promise haunted the far reaches of your mind like a ghost. You bit your lip and writhed brainlessly underneath him, fighting your looming orgasm with every ounce of restraint you could muster up. It was easier said than done; between Ominis’ frantic pace, his possessive hold on your hair, and the guttural, animalistic sounds he was making, you wanted nothing more than to finally fall over the edge into white bliss. 

Ominis knew it too, but he wasn’t about to give you what you wanted without a little more effort on your part. 

Releasing your hair to loop his arm under your rounded spine, Ominis mouthed wetly down the column of your throat before breathing his request against your sweat-slick skin, “Tell me what you want, love. Say the words.”

“I-I want to come– please let me come, Ominis, please.” Your breathless noises grew louder as Ominis licked a broad stripe along your collarbone before kissing and sucking another love-bite right below your clavicle. When he suddenly hauled your waist against him and slammed his cock up into you, your eyes crossed as you gasped for air and let your head fall back against the desk. The blond buried the cacophony of sounds falling from his lips against your skin, groaning at the way you arched hard and tightened perfectly around his throbbing member, and your thighs trembled bonelessly on either side of him. 

All you could do was let Ominis hold you, giving yourself over to him completely as he fucked incoherent pleas from your swollen lips and chased his own pleasure. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as you fought your climax, and when your lover turned his head to bury his face in the crook of your neck, his pace quickened immeasurably further. His thick cock nailed you perfectly, each thrust he gave you pulling out almost entirely before he stuffed you full again, and the hand he didn’t have pinned to the desk flew up to grip his bicep as your body quaked with pleasure. 

It was too much to bear– you needed to come– almost as much as you needed to breathe. The overstimulating sensations were driving you insane, and when Ominis moaned long and loud next to your ear, you almost caved without permission. 

Almost. 

Ominis knew you were close. He could feel you fighting your finish as you writhed and angled your hips to meet his, and he could hear your cries of his name growing louder and louder until your voice was cracking on the end of your pleas of, “Please let me come, please Ominis– can I come?” He grazed his teeth up your throat towards your ear, and his fingers dug into the bones of your wrist as his grip turned irontight. The arm he had coiled around your waist followed suit, and after a few more hurried thrusts into you, Ominis acceded to your begging. 

“Come for me, darling,” he moaned directly beside your ear. “Be a good girl and come for me, let me feel you.” 

You didn’t even give him the chance to repeat himself. 

Arching clean off the desk, your breathing stopped entirely as you tensed in Ominis’ arms, and a strangled gasp caught in his throat when your sopping wet heat clamped down on his cock to seemingly suck him in deeper. His hand on your wrist fell away in an instant to slip between your flush bodies, and those nimble fingers sought out your clit with a practiced ease that sent your composure careening into oblivion. 

The added stimulation was damn near unbearable, but you had no way to escape his unrelenting hands as he held you through your climax. Your voice was a raspy, sinful melody in his ears, and Ominis knew he wouldn’t last much longer. “Merlin, you feel so good, love. So perfect for me– I’m close–” 

“D-Don’t stop,” you stammered in between gasps, your nails clawing into the wood of the desk in a bid to find purchase. “Gods, don’t stop Ominis, cum inside– please, please–”

He was all too happy to oblige you. With a throaty groan, Ominis lowered you so you were laying across the desk once again, then slipped his hands under the bent crooks of your knees to push your legs against your chest. Still hyper-sensitive from your ebbing finish, the new angle allowed you to feel more of your lover’s cock inside of you as he began thrusting into you harder and faster. The blond’s head tipped back as he shamelessly moaned your name into the open air, and before long the sound was drowned out by the slapping of his hips against your ass as he pounded into you. 

With your thighs nearly pressed together, Ominis felt impossibly thicker as his manhood reached deeper. Everytime he pulled back, the blunt head of his cock rubbed past your sweet spot perfectly, and your toes curled as you gasped and moaned, your senses completely overwhelmed by the overstimulation. Ominis’ grip on your legs turned bruising as his pace grew rougher, steadily losing the fight to maintain his rhythm– especially when your hands flew from the desk to brainlessly claw at his forearms. 

“Fuck, darling– fuck,” he grit through his clenched teeth, and with one final thrust into your pulsing core, Ominis came with a husky cry of your name. His hands slid to the front of your legs to pull you back against his hips to better grind against your rear, milking every thick bit of cum from his twitching cock. Hot spurts of his seed painted your insides and brought you higher than before, and your nails dragged down his arms as you keened breathlessly beneath him, wriggling back into his shallow grinding the best you could. 

The two of you stayed like that for what seemed like an eternity, but realistically could only have been a handful of minutes. You blearily blinked up at Ominis when he released your thighs to brace his arms against the desk, his chest rising and falling as he sucked down deep, shaky breaths, and you brazenly wound your trembling legs around his waist to keep him exactly where he was. The wet sound of his load squelching out around his cock had him groaning unabashedly— not-so-secretly in love with the sordid noises your cunt made when it was filled to the brim with his cum— and your eyelids fluttered shut as streaks of the white fluid dripped down your ass onto the desk.

When he lifted his head to gaze down in your direction, your stomach flipped at the lustful glimmer in his hazy eyes, and his hands skirted across the oak surface beneath you in search of your face. You angled your head to the side to meet him halfway, and he followed his arm as he bent down to capture your lips in a hungry kiss that said more than words ever could. He still elected to speak, however, amusement lacing his tone as his fingers traced the outline of your jaw. 

“I suppose you’re feeling rather pleased with yourself right about now,” he murmured softly against your lips, gently rocking his hips against yours and smearing his sticky seed across your rear. Thus far he had made no move to pull out, but you weren’t about to start complaining. Your current arrangement was beyond preferable to the torturous waiting game you’d been playing with him earlier. 

You tried and failed to fight the smirk that stretched across your face, and you chuckled coyly under your breath. “What makes you say that?” 

Ominis’ eyes darkened when he pulled away, and his hands trailed higher up the desk to wind in your unruly hair once again as he gathered the strands in his fists. Your eyes widened and your breath halted as he inhaled deeply– as though he were committing your scent to memory– before he nudged his nose against yours and grinned wickedly. “Because now I have every intention of stretching this ‘break’ well into the morning,” he vowed, and the revelation had your heart soaring while your stomach simultaneously flipped on itself. “How many more times can I fill you before it gets to be too much… let’s find out, shall we?”

Swallowing around the lump in your throat, your hands splayed against his pale sternum as you cautiously asked, “Shouldn’t you sleep? You have work in the morning…”

“To hell with sleep,” Ominis tutted disapprovingly at you, tightening his hold against your scalp. “You started this after all. I’ll make sure you’re the farthest thing from lonely tonight, darling.” 

If the way his cock seemed to revive inside of you was any indication, you knew with the utmost certainty that he definitely wasn’t lying. You didn’t know whether to be excited or afraid as you realized exactly what it was you’d inadvertently signed yourself up for. 

Merlin’s balls— you were in for it now. 

[heylorrain]

A proper apology

🔞❤️‍🔥 NSFW // MDNI 🔞❤️‍🔥

⚠️ Sebastian Sallow x F! reader⚠️ Spicy content ahead

Full pic on my Ao3 and Poipiku 🐍 Ominis’ version

“Look at yourself. I am doing this to you. You’re mine. No one else's.” You couldn't tear your gaze away from the mirror as he made you his.

Sebastian Sallow, the boy who had captured your heart in 5th year, was now just a memory. After everything that had happened with his uncle and the relic, you couldn't bring yourself to continue with your relationship. He spent one year in Azkaban, paying for his crimes before finally being released.

But 6th year at Hogwarts just wasn't the same without him. The classes felt dull and lifeless without his charming wit and adventurous spirit. The Undercroft, where you had shared countless secret conversations and stolen kisses, now felt hauntingly empty. 

Then, in 7th year, he returned. Rumors spread like wildfire about why he had seemingly transferred to homeschool - some said it was to help his sister Anne catch up on her studies. But only you and Ominis knew the truth behind his absence - the pain and guilt of what he had done.

As you watched him from across the Great Hall, your heart still ached for what could have been if things had gone differently. You missed him. You wanted to run to him and tackle him with a never ending hug, and fill every freckle in his face with your kisses.

But then, as the memories came flooding back, you remembered. You've written to him every single day for an entire year. Each letter carefully crafted and sent with hope and longing. And yet, every one of them was returned to your hands with a familiar red stamp: rejected by the recipient. 

He took a seat next to Ominis, not even sparing a glance in your direction. His gaze, or lack thereof, felt like a heavy brick wall crushing down on you. You stood up from the table, completely abandoning your untouched dinner. You needed to be alone. To escape the suffocating anxiety that was building inside of you. He was so close, yet so far away.

Leaving the Great Hall with a calm facade, tears begin to flow freely as soon as you're out of sight. The haunting image of him sitting mere inches away from you is burned into your mind. 

Seeking refuge in the abandoned Haunted Toilets, typically reserved for Peeves, you let out all of your pent-up emotion in a torrent of tears. The grimy, cracked walls amplified your sobs, sending painful echoes reverberating through the empty bathroom.

"Why does it still hurt?" You cried to yourself, the weight of your longing for Sebastian crushing down on your heart. You could feel his absence like a physical ache, You yearned for his warm touch, the gentle caress of his hands, and the familiar scent that always comforted you. Every aspect of him felt like a distant memory that only intensified the pain in your soul.

The door creaked open behind you, and there he was. Sebastian stood in the doorway, his tall frame silhouetted by the moonlight streaming in from the window. The light played across his freckles, turning them into shimmering specks of gold. He watched you crumble before him, his arms crossed in front of his chest. His eyes bore into you, demanding an explanation. 

"Tell me, NOW." Sebastian demanded, his voice hard and unforgiving.

You couldn't believe it. After a whole year of ignoring your letters, worries, and heartache, those were the first words that came out of his mouth?

"What do you want me to tell you, Sallow?" you spat back at him, anger bubbling up inside of you. You violently wiped away the tears that had escaped down your cheeks. 

Sebastian's eyebrows furrowed in concern as he looked at you skeptically, his arms uncrossing as he took a step closer. 

"You don't look fine to me," he said softly, his eyes scanning your face for any signs of distress. "You know you can tell me anything. We may not be together anymore, but I still care about you."

We may not be together anymore, but I still care about you. The hypocrisy. His words hit you like a punch to the gut, reminding you of the love that was once there between you two.

"What do you want from me, Sallow?" You spat out his name with venom, your voice trembling with emotion. "I gave you everything in our 5th year. My time, my patience, my loyalty, my devotion. What else do you wish to take from me? I'm here at Hogwarts, alone, ignored by you while Ominis is probably already waiting for me in the Undercroft to hear my sad thoughts for the millionth time." Tears welled up in your eyes again, threatening to spill over onto your swollen cheeks.

He closed the door behind him with a soft click, making it feel like a finality. You heard the lock turning, sealing you both inside the small room and shutting out the rest of the world. The air between you two felt thick and suffocating, filled with unspoken words and unresolved feelings. 

He prowled towards you with the quiet, calculated movements of a wolf stalking its prey in the cover of night. His eyes gleamed with a predatory hunger, and you could feel his gaze raking over your trembling form. A shiver ran down your spine as he continued to close the distance between you, his steps almost silent on the humid stone floor. 

"Do not come any closer Sallow" You warned, pointing your wand at him. The point of your wand hummed with energy, ready to unleash its magic at your command.

“Do it” Sebastian growled through clenched teeth “Curse me, Y/N. I don't give a damn. After everything I went through in Azkaban, do you think you can hurt me any further?. “ Your trembling wand pinched his chest as he kept walking towards you.

 “Do you?” His voice boomed off the walls, echoing in your ears. 

“I rotted in that hellhole for a year. I was utterly alone, without Anne or Ominis or you. I knew I deserved everything that happened to me. But most of all, I deserved to be left by you. You deserve better than me. You deserve someone better not a-” He choked on the word before spitting it out with disgust- “murderer.” 

Tears welled up in your eyes as his words pierced your heart, but you refused to let them fall.

“I pushed you away because I thought I could never earn your love again,” he continued, his voice breaking with every word. “When I was in Azkaban, when I was losing my grip on reality, all I could do was beg in my head to hear your voice, to smell your scent, to taste you one last time. But I didn't deserve it. I didn't deserve you. I still don’t. ” The pain and regret in his voice were palpable.

With a sharp intake of breath, you closed the distance between you and Sebastian. The sound of your palm striking his cheek echoed through the walls.

How dare he? How dare he confess that you deserved more, a better man? The anger burned inside you as you thought about all the letters he had ignored, the anguish, tears, sorrow, and love that he had chosen to disregard. 

"I'll stand by you through this, and in all our other lives, Sebastian Sallow. But if you choose to delve deeper into the dangerous world of Dark Arts, pushing me away as you go down a path towards self-destruction, do not expect me to follow. I love you too much to watch you fall apart." Your words were laced with equal parts passion and desperation, a final plea for him to see reason before it was too late.

With a heavy heart, you began to turn away, your steps slow and hesitant. As you clicked the lock open, ready to exit the bathroom and leave this tense encounter behind you, a sudden force seized your waist and yanked you back inside. The sound of your sharp intake of breath was drowned out by the thud of the door closing behind you.

"You're not going anywhere," Sebastian's voice was low and rough with emotion, "not before I give you a proper apology." 

He lifted you up and pinned you against the door with ease, his strong hands gripping your sides firmly. Your own hands instinctively reached up to cling to his neck, fingers digging into his skin as if seeking reassurance. 

Your lips collided in a violent and heated kiss, the passion between you both exploding like a firework. Your teeth clashing against his, causing the taste of metal to run across your lips. The intensity of the moment consumed you as you pulled, pushed, and shook him, unable to control your desire for this man. You didn't know what you wanted to do with him, but you just needed him, desperately.

 “Sebastian, I-” 

“Shut your pretty little mouth.” Your words were cut off by his rough command. 

As you kissed, your fingers traced over the soft strands of his hair, relishing in the familiar sensation. It had been so long since you had felt his touch, and you had missed it dearly. The scent of him filled your senses, a mix of wood and fresh cut grass that was uniquely him. His breath was sweet as honey and seemed to wash over you like a warm embrace. Memories flooded back as you savored the moment. 

“Let me devour you...please.” Sebastian’s tone was like that of a wild animal, asking permission to feast on its prey. It was almost pathetic how much he craved you.

But as he moved in for another kiss, you turned your cheek and whispered in his ear:

“No. Apologize first.”

Sebastian was determined to earn that apology. His sharp gaze met yours as he carefully set you down on your feet, his movements deliberate and purposeful. 

He kneeled before you and his head got lost in the folds of your skirt. As if seeking absolution, he began to worship every inch of skin above your knees with his lips. each kiss like a sweet offering of repentance.

Slowly, his kisses trailed up your thighs, inching higher and higher until they reached your inner thighs. You could feel the heat emanating from your core, begging for more. And Sebastian was all too willing to give it.

With rough hands, he parted your legs and pressed himself against you, feeling the intense heat radiating from your entrance. He couldn't resist any longer and continued to trail his kisses higher and higher until he buried his nose between your soaked panties. The sensation caused you to moan loudly, unable to contain yourself. 

His strong hands traveled to your hips, pushing you against the wall for support as your legs threatened to give out under the overwhelming pleasure that was coursing through your body. And in that moment, with Sebastian's lips and hands worshipping every inch of you. 

With a careful tug of his teeth, he removed your lace panties and let them drop to the floor at your feet, leaving you bare and exposed. 

Your body responded instinctually, reaching out to grip his head and guide him to where you needed him most. His tongue was like a delicately placed brush, painting slow and deliberate strokes across your sensitive flesh as he savored the sweet taste of your arousal. Your hips began to sway in time with his movements, rolling forward and back in an erotic rhythm. Your knees clenched tightly around his head, holding him in place as he worshipped you with his mouth.

Each flick of his tongue sent shivers coursing through your body, causing you to moan uncontrollably. As the passion built and your bodies intertwined, beads of sweat formed on your skin, adding to the intense heat radiating between you. The bathroom mirrors were steamed up from the steamy encounter, the only source of light being the soft glow of moonlight filtering through the window. 

Your moans warned Sebastian that you were nearing your limit, he only seemed to be spurred on by the challenge. With his strong, calloused hand, he traced a path down your body, his touch sending shivers of anticipation coursing through your veins. 

You couldn't help but twitch in response, eager for what was about to unfold. He then slowly, tantalizingly, slid his index finger inside your warm and inviting body, causing you to let out a feral growl of pleasure. 

This was a sensation he had only given you once before - before everything fell apart. Before the fifth year intervened and brought chaos into your relationship. Before the cursed relic came between you. Before the painful breakup that tore your hearts apart. And now here you were, reunited and rediscovering the passion that still burned between you.

Every nerve in your body was on high alert as the sensations from his touch washed over you. This wasn't like your first time with him at the dimly lit Undercroft, this was something else entirely; a chaotic and wild frenzy of desire. 

He pushed his index finger in and out of your entrance in a perfect rhythm, each thrust causing your walls to tighten around him. The sound of his voice, deep and almost demonic, made you let out a loud cry 

"After all this time...you're still so tight for me, Y/N," you heard Sebastian growl, his words laced with possessiveness and hunger.

You were wild and unapologetic, a naughty young woman who reveled in the forbidden pleasure of rocking your hips against your loved one. Sebastian, the man who had pushed you away for almost a year, was like a drug to you. You couldn't resist his touch, his alluring presence. It was like coming home after a long journey. 

As he slipped two fingers inside you, you gasped in ecstasy.

"You're taking me so good, my love." You gasped as Sebastian added a third finger, filling you completely. 

The sensations in your G Spot were intoxicating, sending shivers of pleasure through your body as your walls tightened around his fingers. You reached your climax and fell to your knees, still trembling with desire for him.

With a soft cry, you pulled him out of you slowly, savoring every moment of pleasure before he slipped away from you. Your body ached for more, but even in the absence of his touch, you could still feel the lingering effects of his fingers inside you. It was a bittersweet ache that only he could soothe.

He raised his hand to his lips, savoring the lingering essence of your orgasm and the wetness that coated them. 

A smile played on his lips as he whispered, "Your taste hasn't changed a bit, my love." 

He couldn't resist any longer and dove in to kiss you on the humid floor. Your legs welcomed him eagerly, wrapping around his waist as your bodies molded together. 

You could feel his cock throbbing painfully hard against his clothes, a testament to his desire for you. The stain of his pre-cum, evidence of how much he wanted you, had made an appearance earlier as he went down on you. Your inner thigh still glistened with it. 

Before things could get too heated on the floor, he pulled away abruptly.

"Get up," he commanded. "You're too delicate to be fucked on the floor, dear." In a heartbeat, he was on his feet and effortlessly lifting you up off the ground. He pressed you against the sink, making you face the mirror so you could watch every moment of what was about to happen next.

As you looked at yourself in the mirror, a blood-curdling scream threatened to escape your lips. 

Your hair was a tangled mess, strands sticking out in all directions as if they had been struck by lightning. And your blouse - which one were you even wearing? Blinking, you realized that Sebastian must have taken it off of you without you even noticing. Thank Merlin your bra was a decent one, its deep red hue matching perfectly with Sebastian's favorite color. Though now, it felt like a symbol of his possession over you. Your reflection seemed almost unreal, as if you were looking at a stranger who had been ravaged by desire and abandoned by all sense of control.

“Look how beautiful you are,” he whispered, his voice low and husky. His hand gently caressed your cheek as he gazed at you with adoration. “Look at yourself. I am doing this to you. You’re mine. No one else's.” His words sent a thrill of excitement through your body. You couldn't tear your gaze away from the mirror as he made you his, his hands exploring every inch of your bare skin. 

Your lips parted to speak, but before any words could escape, you felt his hard length pressing against your ass. 

He noticed your hesitation and spoke softly, “Tell me, what is it?” Your eyes met his in the reflection of the mirror, filled with longing and desire.

Without another thought, you looked over your shoulder at him, silently pleading for more. You wanted to feel his warmth, his body pressed against yours. You've missed him and he could see that in your eyes. As you stood there almost naked and vulnerable, he remained fully dressed.

He stepped away from you, not breaking eye contact in the mirror. 

Slowly, deliberately, he began to undress himself. First came his cloak, sliding off his shoulders with ease. Then, with just two fingers, he released his tie and looped it around his neck. Next went his vest and suspenders, each piece discarded with a practiced grace. 

You couldn't tear your gaze away as he stripped down before you, watching every movement in the reflection of the mirror.

With only his pants remaining, his arousal stood tall and hard before him. He closed the distance between you and began to kiss the nape of your neck, trailing his hands over every inch of your exposed skin. As he reached behind you to knot his loosened tie around your wrists, you trembled with anticipation.

His warm breath danced across your ear and the sensitive skin of your neck as he moved closer. The scent of him enveloped you, sweet and intoxicating.

"I miss the way you say my name, love," he purred as he wrapped his hands around your tightly bound wrists and pulled you closer to him. His voice was like a velvety whisper. "Say it."

 You hesitated for a moment, unable to resist getting lost in the reflection of his intense gaze. His piercing eyes seemed to see straight through you, leaving you vulnerable and exposed. 

He pressed his cock against your closed thighs, teasing and tormenting you with each subtle movement. A bead of precum escaped from the tip of his member and dripped between your legs, igniting a deep ache within you. His throbbing erection came tantalizingly close to your folds, tempting and teasing you further. 

Desperately wanting to catch a glimpse of him, you dared to look down but he quickly tugged on the tie that bound your wrists together. The sensation made you moaned as he held you in place.

“Say my name first”.

“Sebastian” You whispered in a very low voice. 

He shoved his cock closer to your entrance, brushing your clit.

“Louder” 

“Sebastian” - A little higher. 

“You can do better than that”

"S-Sebastian, please-" 

The sound of your breathless pleading was music to Sebastian's ears.Your voice quivered with need and anticipation, the same plea you had made when you lost your virginity to him. 

He pressed himself against your back, pushing you against the cold marble sink. His strong hands grasped your hips, spreading your buttocks apart. Thanks to all the skilled work he had done with his tongue and fingers earlier, he had no trouble penetrating you in a heartbeat.

A primal growl escaped your chest as he began to thrust his hips slowly against yours. Your core eagerly welcomed him, craving his touch. Every thrust sent sparks of pleasure through your body, your walls clenching tightly around him in ecstasy.

The sounds of your wetness mingled with the sound of skin slapping against skin as he drove into you over and over again. The heady scent of sex filled the air, making your head spin and your senses reel. With every movement, you felt yourself getting closer and closer to the edge, until finally you tumbled over, crying out his name as waves of pleasure washed over you.

“F-Fuck, you’re so tight, my love” Sebastian groaned, his voice strained with desire. 

You whimpered in ecstasy as he maintained a firm grip on your restrained wrists, his other hand skillfully undoing the clasp of your red lace bra with one hand. The delicate fabric fell away, revealing your breasts to him. They bounced and swayed with each thrust of his hips, drawing his gaze to your hardened pink nipples. Without hesitation, he swung you around and carried you into one of the closed stalls, never breaking contact with your body as he sucked on your sensitive peaks. The sensation was like a slow burn, building up until it consumed your entire being. 

With a firm hand, he pushed the stall door closed behind you, trapping you against the cold wooden surface. His strong arms lifted you up, your legs instinctively wrapping around his hips as he devoured your lips with his own. The heat of his body pressed against yours, igniting a fire within you.

“I’ll fuck you in every possible corner in Hogwarts, do you understand me?”

His hands roamed over your body, drawing gentle circles on your breasts before squeezing them and eliciting a moan of pleasure from you. He couldn't resist the taste of you any longer and eagerly sucked on your skin, savoring every moment of finally being able to have you. Just when you thought he would change positions again, he lowered you down a bit, and with an abrupt move he claimed you as his own, pulling your body inside of him. 

A sharp moan escaped your lips as Sebastian guided your weight. Every movement was under his control - how you entered him, how you exited him. As you looked down, you saw your glistening pussy eagerly welcoming his hard cock, sliding in and out of you with each thrust. Your hot juices threatened to splash against his lower stomach, evidence of the intense pleasure between you. 

Your vision blurred as he consumed you, making it difficult to focus on the sight of him thrusting into your soaking wet pussy. You instinctively reached out and grabbed onto his back, digging your nails into his skin as you moaned in ecstasy. Resting your chin on his shoulder, you were able to catch a glimpse of his reflection in a small mirror positioned perfectly in front of you. The defined muscles of his back flexed and strained with each powerful movement, adding to the intensity of the moment. As he continued to penetrate you, his perfectly round and smooth ass tensed and relaxed, driving you closer to the edge. 

Sebastian looked over his shoulder and caught you watching him.His eyes locked with yours, a wicked grin spreading across his lips before he resumed his sensual assault on your body. 

"Take my cock," Sebastian growled, his voice thick with desire. "Take it all in. You belong to me, now and always. You’re mine."

You surrendered to his words, feeling a rush of pleasure coursing through your body as he thrust deeper inside you. Your nails dug into his back, leaving red marks in their wake as you lost yourself in the intense sensation.

With each moan and gasp that escaped your lips, Sebastian's own sounds grew louder. His arousal building until he couldn't hold back any longer. With one final, primal grunt, he released himself inside you, filling you with his warm seed.

Both of you collapsed into each other's embrace, your bodies forming a perfect fit, you could feel his warmth radiating against your skin. The intensity of your hug made it seem as though the world had faded away. Your legs were wobbly and weak, but his strong grip held you steady. His chest rose and fell rapidly against yours, the sound of his racing heartbeat filling your ears. It was a familiar sound that you had longed to hear again.

He held onto you tightly, facing you with an intense gaze as if he never wanted to let go. His nose buried into the soft skin of your neck, taking in your scent, and his arms wrapped around you like a protective shield.

As your bodies intertwined in a warm embrace, his breath tickled your ear as he whispered those familiar words.

"Ever thy. Ever mine. Ever ours." You melted into him, gazing into his hazelnut eyes, now filled with sincerity and regret. It was the same quote you had signed each letter you sent him with, a constant reminder of your love for him. 

"Y-You read them? You-" Your voice trembled with emotion as you tried to comprehend his actions.

He had read them all, despite wanting to push you away and make you forget about him. A pang of regret shot through his voice as he continued, "I wanted to break your heart and make you hate me, to erase myself from your life. And for that, I am deeply sorry. I have read every word, every letter, written with nothing but love and anguish from your hand and soul." Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as you realized how much he had suffered silently, just like you.

Tears glistened in his eyes as he repeated, "I-am-sorry," his voice cracking with raw and intense emotion. 

You gently pressed your lips against his swollen ones, the warmth of your touch bringing a sense of comfort to his beautiful face adorned with scattered freckles.

"You're forgiven." You whispered softly.

👉 It was Sebastian's turn >:)

👉 And in B&W because I did not feel like coloring today

[juliannatrevizo]

Snowball Fight

It was another day at the burrow with the Weasley family.

"Fred Weasley!" Y/n yelped out as he threw a tightly packed snowball at her back. The cold seeped through the material of her jacket, making her lose her breath for a few seconds while shivering.

Y/n immediately grabbed two handfuls of snow before squishing them together to make a snowball while quietly whispering a jinx. A mischievous glint in her eye as she stared right at the redhead, "Oppugno."

Almost immediately, the magic made snowballs begin to launch themselves at Fred, who tried his best to dodge them but, fortunately, failed. After a few seconds passed, the snowballs finally stopped. When Fred peeked out from behind a tree, his hair and clothes were covered in snow particles.

Y/n doubled over, laughing hysterically as Fred just stood there with a stiff posture, a thin lipped expression held on his features as he waited patiently for her to finish her small laughing fit. The corner of his lips turned upwards in a small, admiration filled smile. A few long moments passed before she had finally regained her composure, looking at him with a wide smile.

"Are you done torturing me yet, love?" Fred questioned while taking a few steps towards her, shoving his hands in his pockets with a playful pout. Y/n bit the inside of her cheek as she reached out her hand, gently dusting off the snowflakes that covered his beanie. Fred had to lean down for her to properly reach the top of his head, his gaze never straying from her eyes.

Y/n faintly blushed from the close proximity of him before she quietly cleared her throat. Even after she finished dusting his beanie off, Fred continued to stay still, slowly inching towards her. Her heart beat slowly quickened in nervousness, her gaze flickering between his eyes before glancing down at his very inviting pink tinted lips.

"Watcha lookin' at?" Fred teased with a small smirk. Y/n went to take a step back, her foot landing in a small snow covered hole, making her trip. Fred's hands quickly shoot out to grasp her sides before pulling her towards him by her jacket pockets.

Y/n quietly huffed from the sudden action, her hands placing themselves on his biceps to keep some space between them.

"Would you look at that. I think I hear your mother calling for us." Y/n gushed nervously while gently pushing herself away from him before quickly making her way towards the cozy looking burrow while silently cursing at herself.

Fred stood there in a slight daze, his eyes following her as she walked away.

"You're gonna be the death of me." Fred mumbled to no one in particular while shaking his head, following after her. He subtly picked up speed to catch up to her side.